Yesterday's Girl
by LondonLife
Summary: Rachel leaves Quinn and now, three years later, Quinn's in London trying to move on, taking her heart with her.But what if Rachel returns? Does Quinn's heart already belong to someone else? Eventually includes Brittana/Klaine ect.Rating may change
1. Chapter 1

**Prompted to write this so I hope I've done it justice! Will carry on if you guys like it. Hopefully it will improve as I continue and I eventually want to include more glee characters. Let me know if there's anything you think I should include. Anything that's unclear at the minuet will be made clear within the next few chapters. **

**Includes original characters… hope you like them! **

**Set in Central London. **

**Will eventually include more Glee characters, but they will be introduced later on. **

Bridget -Tate Carlyle woke up to the sound of busy garbage trucks peeping loudly as they prowled down Stratton Street. She rubbed her heavy eyelids and set her bare feet on the red bricks of her hotel suite's terrace, pulling her ex-boyfriend's red baseball jacket close to her slender frame.

Even though she was all the way up on the top floor, sixteen stories above Stratton and Old Bond Street, she could hear the loud noises of the city coming to life below her. It was very different from her home just outside the centre of London, where she'd grown up falling asleep on the beach with her then boyfriend, Joshua Owen. His parents were high business associates on the South side of the bank and he and his brother had always spent their summers in a sunny seaside town named Cornwall. Joshua had surprised Bridget with a brief visit to the West end of London over the weekend, but he'd left last night. When she couldn't sleep, Bridget had dragged a quilt onto the terrace's hammock.

_Sleeping outside? London style baby!_

Bridget shuffled through the sliding French doors and into the fully decorated Amarillo suite she'd been living in for the past two weeks and was now expecting to call home for a while. The series of large open-planned rooms were spaciously and contemporary decorated in tone with the hotels collection of themes. The rooms, with their gleaming hardwood floors and impeccably well-chosen canvases were not exactly homey yet Bridget felt comfortable in the five star Amarillo suite.

She dragged the Harrods duvet behind her, mopping the flawlessly cleaned floors as she wound her way to her roommate Quinn Fabray's room.

Quinn's summer blonde hair was strewn across her pale pink pillow and her breathing was a little heavier than usual as she pushed her face into her pillow. Bridget bounced on the bed.

"Morning!"

Quinn sat up and pulled the strap of her white Cosabella tank top up slightly on her lightly tanned shoulder. Her mid-length straight hair was matted and her powerful hazel eyes were bleary, but she still looked cute, just like she always was.

"It's morning," Bridget announced, bouncing up and down on her knee's like a four year old high on excitement. She was trying to sound perky, but her whole body felt heavy. It wasn't just that she'd had to move out of her own apartment last week due to some form of water damage; it was that she was still adjusting to not being able to make the hotel feel like her home, even if she had been running round the wide halls of Mayfair hotel since she was three.

When Bridget was born she had been completely unexpected. Her mother, a famous London designer had been head over hills in love with London's top surgeon; Edward Carlyle. Her father was a conservative, suit wearing business man who dabbled in the industry of raising awareness and essentially saving lives. He was all clean lines and sharp edges. Perfectly respectable. But Bridget hadn't fitted in with that image very well when she was born, since they were both just eighteen at the time. Bridget was always too messy, too loud, too impressionable and too much for a single parent, but her father had fallen in love with family life and together her mum and dad had recreated the perfect family picture simply by defying the rules high society had been bound by. Her lovable mother and handsome father always believed Bridget could be someone, despite popular beliefs her mischief had caused whilst she was at high school.

Not that she wasn't already someone. Bridget was the girl everyone remembered. The one everyone loved to hate. _She didn't have to try to shine: she shone brighter than the rest of them already._

Now, Bridget wondered if she'd proven the doubters right. Not that she cared, she was still _someone_. She bounced on Quinn's bed some more. Quinn groaned sleepily.

"Come on, wake up!" Bridget urged, even though it was barley nine, and Quinn always liked to lie in.

"What time is it?" Quinn sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She couldn't believe her and Bridget were so close. _After all, not many people could get away with waking her up so early._ Bridget was always doing ridiculous things, like teaching their bosses dog Token to dance or going for a run at three in the morning. _But that's what Quinn loved about her._ It reminded her of someone she once knew. Sometimes it was as if she was perpetually stoned. But even though the coyote bar she worked at was filled with stoners, Bridget had never been into drugs.

_It never really seemed like she needed them anyway. _

"It's after ten," Bridget lied, biting her full bottom lip. "Want to go outside? It's really pretty." She smiled, a smile so pure it almost broke Quinn's heart with its beauty. An effect she had on most people. Quinn took in Bridget's naturally sexy, tousled hair and slightly puffy emerald green eyes and knew immediately that she'd been crying over her loser ex-boyfriend all night.

Back before Bridget and Josh broke up, Quinn had done everything possible to avoid Josh and his gross, boyish habits, but this weekend it had been impossible to avoid him. He'd been everywhere, constantly around Bridget reminding Quinn of why she'd never liked men. Plus she hated to admit it, but she felt sort-of… _threatened._ She knew Bridget had liked that he was _authentic_, but did authentic have to mean appalling?

_Short answer? No. _

Sure he was handsome and treated Bridget like royalty but that didn't cut it with Quinn.

"Okay, I'll come outside." Quinn pulled herself out from underneath the designer duvet and padded barefoot onto the terrace as Bridget followed. Both girls squinted in the bright, morning sunlight. Below them, the wide street was empty except for the occasional taxi or sleek black business car pulling into the hotel's private carpool area. Beyond the street was the lush expanse of Hyde Park, where the girls could barely make out various paths winding through its vast greenery.

The two women sat together, swinging in the hammock and looking over the other landscaped terraces surrounding Mayfair hotel and Hyde Park's perimeters. Everything seemed deserted, which made Quinn question what time it really was. Yet she didn't care when Bridget rested her head on her shoulder, their thighs brushing together as she snuggled closer.

Quinn sighed in contentment. Up here, she felt like the world stopped for her, like running away was worth everything she risked, like nothing would ever compare to the calmness and content she felt inside.

"Hey." Bridget's brother, Hudson, six foot two and shirtless, stepped onto the terrace carrying a carton of orange juice and a bottle of champagne, wearing only his swimming trunks. Bridget rolled her eyes at her swimming-obsessed brother who could drink anyone under the table and still beat them at poker. He was drinking her champagne from the minibar which she'd undoubtedly have to pay for.

"Orange anyone?" He took a swig of orange juice from the cartoon and grinned at Quinn's repulsed grimaced. Bridget shook her head sadly as her glossy brunette hair brushed between her shoulder blades. She flashed her brother a lazy grin. Her tousled hair had already gained a few bronze highlights from the beginning of summer as she hadn't been in the dance studio as much.

"What's up?" Hudson asked the girls companionably.

"Nothing." Quinn and Bridget answered at the same time. Hudson sighed. Girls had always been so much easier to understand when he was ten; before they started acting all coy and mysterious. He'd only just turned eighteen and was using this weekend as an excuse to get drunk since he was staying with Bridget and didn't have to go home and face their family maid. Bridget and Quinn, being two years older didn't really care what he got up to, as long as he didn't get in their way.

He took a swig of orange juice and wondered if he'd ever understand women. If they weren't so irresistible in general, he might have become a monk.

He placed the unopened bottle of champagne down on a small outside table, and squeezed onto the hammock next to his sister. He glanced across at the mass of trees. Hyde Park always seemed so small from terraces yet it took him forever to walk through it on his way home from college.

"What's going on B?" Hudson asked, as gently as a guy could. She simply shook her head, but he knew anyway that it was something to do with that jerk Joshua. "He's not worth it." He shook his head, earning a definite nod from Quinn in agreement.

"I don't care." Sighed Bridget, hugging Josh's red jersey closer to her toned body as she pulled her long, honey coloured legs to her chest. Quinn watched her eyelashes flutter against her tanned cheek as she looked at the ground.

"I care B."

_Words she said so many times before._

She really meant it when she said she cared. She just wished the brunette would realise that. It was killing her to see such a genuinely caring, beautiful girl get hurt over and over again. Plus her feelings were getting harder to push aside.

Bridget didn't say a word. The moment felt too precious for her to risk breaking. Instead she snuggled even closer to Quinn, entwining their fingers loosely. Hudson looked on as the girls became quiet, all of them watching as the sun appeared over the top of classic townhouses and dog walkers started to appear.

Hudson ran his hands through his short dirty blonde hair, remembering something. "Oh actually, I'm glad your both up." He said, breaking the comfortable silence "I have something to show you. Come on, its inside." He gestured towards the open-planned living room, his excited grin childish and endearing.

Bridget chuckled as Hudson slid enthusiastically of the hammock and padded into the apartment with her and Quinn following his long strides. For the past week Hudson had been acting as an art advisor for a girl from his new course starting in September. He had been to an opening every night, usually in an overcrowded, money drenched gallery in Mayfair itself, where he'd drunk champagne and pretended to know what he was talking about. Bridget expected it to be some kind of 'art' he wanted to show them.

Hudson led them through the expansive dining area, into the expressive contemporary chic living room where an electric fire raged beneath the plasma.

Bridget dug her toes into the fur rug lining their living room, her duvet still hanging of her shoulders.

Sitting next to the large lime sofa which was decorated with brown and burgundy cushions, was a two foot high canvas splattered with paint. Bridget could just make out tiny, obscured patterns within the paint that spelt 'Love lasts.'

"What do you think?" Hudson grinned, staring down at the canvas "A man was selling it last night for just a pound on New Bond Street when I was coming home last night from a concert. This is supposed to be authentic, London City art." He added casually.

"I can, erm… see why." Bridget murmured softly, but then she smiled tilting her head as she evaluated the 'art'.

"I'm out of here." Quinn announced, unable to hide a tiny smile from breaking out across her lips as she backed away from the canvas as if it were contaminated. "Bridget and I are going shopping." She decided, locking eyes with the stunning brunette as if willing her to say yes. Bridget had been moping around in Josh's stupid jersey all weekend. It had to stop.

Bridget shook her head, pulling the red sweatshirt tighter against her toned body. She actually kind of liked the 'art'. It looked just as out of place as she felt sometimes. "I have plans" she lied. She'd decide what her plans were as soon as she was out of Quinn's sight.

Hudson gazed at the canvas. A fraction of the picture looked as if it was winking at him. He really needed to get out of the house.

"I..uh, need to pick up some swim stuff ." he vaguely remembered an email telling him he needed to get his uniform from the team captain before his first term at college started. The team captain was going away on holiday so today was his last chance. "I better get going, but don't steal the art girls. I know you wanna." He grinned, kicking his feet as he wandered to the kitchen.

"No danger of that happening." Quinn and Bridget mumbled, sharing a knowing smile.

Bridget, Hudson and Quinn all scattered to different ends of the apartment, preparing for whatever they had planned that day. College started again tomorrow. It was Bridget and Quinn's last term at West London College but it was also Quinn's first ever time there. She didn't see the point of joining for the last term, but there were things she could gain by carrying on afterwards. It was going to be Hudson's first day as well.

_It was the dawn of a new era. _

Hudson came back and casually carried the canvas back into the spare room where he's crashed last night. "Have fun on your last day of freedom!" he called, his voice echoing of the walls of the hotel suite.

Like they didn't _always _find a way to have fun!


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for any mistakes! This chapter isn't my best but will certainly improve as I carry on. Thank you for the reviews **

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Quinn couldn't help smiling to herself as she emerged from the apartment building and started walking down Stratton Street. It was only ten o'clock in the morning, due to Bridget's morning wake up call, but the streets were already buzzing with tourists and families. The late august heat was laced with a cool breeze that made her shiver with anticipation. She couldn't wait to see the trees flanking the avenue's turn a brilliant orange, red and yellow. She couldn't wait to snuggle up in a cashmere Burberry coat and sip hot chocolate on one of the benches lining Hyde Park with Bridget in the thick of winter. But she was nervous about tomorrow, where she'd have to start at a brand new college with a group of elite girls who wore nothing but designer and only lived in penthouse's or giant mansions in Mayfair.

She turned onto New Bond Street, pausing at the large glass-plate windows of the Calvin-Klein boutique on the corner of Regent Street, noticing her reflection in the windows. With her mid-length brilliant gold hair framing her perfect face and a light pink Diane von Furstenberg sleeveless wrap dress hugging her petite frame, she looked like any other Upper West sider in London out for a stroll.

In Ohio, where designer clothes were a rarity and a party meant drinking a six-pack a some jock's house, Quinn had always wanted something different. Ohio was her home, but London was her _life_.

Finally she was right where she belonged and even the pain of having to leave Beth behind was slowly healing. It would never be completely healed, but she was going to prove that Beth had someone to be proud of and she'd never let her down. Not again.

Quinn tore herself away from the shop window and continued to walk down New Bond Street. Just pass the corner of Oxford Street she reached the door to Louis Vuitton and smiled shyly as the dapper, black-suited doorman held it open. She breathed in deeply as she entered, the aching scent of Creed Fleurissimo hitting her along with the AC. It had been her grandmother's favourite perfume, and Quinn could practically feel the elderly Fabray's presence guiding her towards the true designer purses.

Quinn walked through the luxury handbag department, reverently touching the crocodile skin and leathers. Her eyes stopped on a cognac coloured Vuitton satchel, and her stomach fluttered. Finally! She'd been looking for the perfect bag to carry her college work in all summer.

Its gold buckles reminded of the antique chest she'd left behind in Ohio. It had been left to her by her grandparent's and she'd treasured it ever since. All of Beth's belongings had been kept in their since she was born. Of course, when Quinn had left she took Beth's most vulnerable belongings with her, but some remained there, locked away safely in her treasure chest.

"Exquisite piece." Quinn heard a smooth voice over her shoulder. She turned around and took in the sales lady behind her. She was in her mid-forties, with grey-streaked hair pulled into a sleek bun.

"It's beautiful." Quinn agreed, wishing the saleslady would disappear. She had enough trouble getting saleswomen to leave her alone in Ohio, she didn't need it here. She wanted this moment to be pure; between her and the purse.

"Limited edition." The saleslady noted. Her name tag read NATALIE. "It was actually claimed but we never heard back from the buyer…would you be interested?" Natalie raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows.

Quinn nodded, transfixed. It reminded her of home and for the past three years she'd been pushing any memories of home away, but today she _wanted_ a reminder. She felt ready to finally move on.

She glanced at the price tag – three thousand pounds. She narrowed her eyes in thought. She hadn't really brought much since she'd arrived in London, except helped pay rent even though Bridget had refused. She'd told Quinn to save her money instead. It was nice to have someone take such good care of her, not because Bridget had to, but because she genuinely wanted too. But Quinn still helped out when she could anyway. However, now she was earning £300 a night in tips when she worked so she could easily pay for the purse.

"I'll take it." She smiled, reaching out her newly painted nails to retrieve her new purchase.

"Oh, there you are!"

Quinn and Natalie both turned in unison to see a willowy girl with cascading strawberry blonde hair and a freckled complexion sweep across the marble floor. Quinn paused, confused. Even in a fluttering white Milly summer dress with enormous D&G sunglasses perched on her head, the girl looked exactly like a ballerina she'd seen in a famous painting.

"I came to pick up my bag. So sorry I didn't get your messages – I was in the Canaries." She sighed deeply, coming to a stand just in front of Quinn. "Thanks again for holding it." The girl went to grab it from Quinn's hands, but she moved backwards, completely in awe of the girl's demeanour. She held out her hands as if Quinn's job had been to hold it for her. Quinn arched her eyebrow as she stared at the girl.

"You must be Jayme Regan." Natalie pressed her lips into a tight line as she turned to the girl. "Unfortunately, because we do have a release policy and we have somebody interested, I'm afraid that we'll have to put you back on the waiting list.

Quinn tried to hide an amused smile, hoping she didn't look like as much of a bitch as this Jayme girl did. No one at West London High's college for girls could have this bag. It seemed all the more valuable now that Quinn saw how in demand it was. Jayme placed a dainty hand on the strap of the satchel.

"I can see why you need a new bag." Jayme glanced pointedly at Quinn's worn Louis Vuitton Speedy purse. It had been a present from her dad when she was twelve and it was _well loved._ Her, Santana and Brittany had shared it for years, loving that no one else had even touched a designer bag yet they had one of their own. "There are some outside you might be interested in."

Quinn narrowed her addictive hazel eyes at the girl and gripped the bag's shoulder strap tighter in her grasp.

_Outside? As in, the tacky knockoffs hocked by vendors on the street? _She was speechless_. _

"Now that that's settled," Jayme went on, tightening her grasp around the Louis Vuitton's satchel's strap. "Can we please take care of this?" she ordered Natalie haughtily, her green eyes flashing.

Natalie drew herself up to her full height of five foot one. She stood comically between the two girls who were each a few inches taller and faced each other eye to eye above her head. "That's the only one we have." She began authoritatively. "It's a limited edition and rather fragile, so I'm sure you will both be able to sort something out." She reached for Jayme's fingers, trying to pry them away from the leather.

"I don't think that will be necessary." Quinn assured her, giving the bag a soft but unexpected tug that took Jayme by surprise. She stumbled forward, losing her grip. _Take that bitch,_ Quinn smirked. She was surprised by her own confidence, but something about that girl really got under her skin.

Before Jayme could regain her balance, Quinn strode quickly across the store towards the counter, Natalie right behind her as she clutched the purse protectively against her chest. Natalie ran quickly around to the other side of the counter as Quinn produced her credit card, handing it over before Jayme approached her.

The card swept like a dream and Quinn watched over her shoulder as Jayme caught up with her, staring her down with true hatred and impatience mixed with anger. Natalie professionally packaged the satchel handing it over to Quinn and signalling discreetly for her to escape before Jayme said anymore. She did as she was told, eagerly escaping the girls steely glare as she strode back through the door, shooting Jayme a _too bad_ smile over her shoulder, leaving Natalie to deal with the aftermath.

As she crossed Oxford Street, a cute woman in a river island running outfit jogged by, smiling at her. Quinn smiled broadly back, the sunlight beating down on her through the trees and shop buildings. Tomorrow, she could begin a brand new chapter of her life and Jayme Regan would be nothing but a distant memory – some bitchy diva who had tried to steal her purse. Never to be heard of again.

_Maybe. The thing is London is a very big city, but Mayfair is a very elite side of it. _

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"Do I look okay? Are we doing okay for time?" Quinn asked. Bridget could sense the nerves behind Quinn's calm exterior as she sipped on her hot chocolate. They turned down Oxford Street, past all the boutiques and then walked towards the red brick building on Leighton Avenue that housed West London College.

"Yeah. You look gorgeous and we're _perfectly_ okay for time." Bridget responded, trying to sound a little more annoyed than she really felt. _She failed._ Quinn had been the one freaking out that they were going to be late and made them leave the hotel at eight am even though classes didn't start until nine. "I don't think I'm going to stay too long anyway." Bridget shrugged mysteriously as she pulled her cascading tousled hair into a messy bun, slipping her D&G sunglasses on.

"Why are you wearing that sweatshirt again? I only washed it last night." Quinn glanced at the red jersey Bridget had refused to take off since Josh had left. Quinn loved that Bridget was romantic but why couldn't Josh leave her something like a tiffany necklace to remember him by? Quinn hated that every time she saw that jersey she was reminded that Bridget wasn't and probably never would be hers. Her heart belonged to someone entirely different and Quinn doubted Bridget was ready to move on from that.

_Not that she'd ever tell Bridget that. _

"Please can you take it off? All the other students will be walking round in Jersey's by tomorrow if they see you in one today." Quinn grinned, but Bridget shook her head stubbornly, smiling gently as Quinn bumped their hips together. "Please?" she tried again, more sweetly this time, seeing that Bridget had no intention of taking it off.

Bridget winked and poked her tongue out, teasing the blonde a little longer making her laugh, before giving in and pulling the jersey of over her head. "Only because you asked politely." She smiled, tapping Quinn on the nose before skipping off, carefree. She truly was beautiful, her smile was wide and sexy, her cheeks were naturally blushed and her Latin roots from her mother's side gave her a sexy tanned complexion that complimented her wavy brunette hair and light dusting of freckles across her nose. Her body was toned from years of street dancing and she'd grown to five foot six, three inches taller than Quinn. "And only because it's you." Bridget added, shouting back over her shoulder.

"There, that's so much better." Santana smiled contently, catching up with the brunette before they turned the corner together into the large private gate of the College. "Here we go," Quinn mumbled as they walked through the giant, royal blue, rotating doors into the college's foyer. She looked around nervously at the sea of students all waiting to receive their timetables or sign up for extra activities. Girls huddled in corners, gossiping and catching up and boys welcomed each other with high-fives, but they all turned and looked when they walked in through the doors. Bridget strode in confidently, not noticing the stares or admiring glances, she was used to it after all. Quinn on the other hand, felt a little less confident seeing quite how popular Bridget really was.

_It was daunting to say the least. _

Bridget led Quinn across the large foyer, still sipping casually on a warm hot chocolate. It may still have been summer, but the temperature in the morning was gradually declining. Girls smiled at her from every corner of the foyer and Bridget casually waved back, smiling. They headed towards one of the three lifts, straight away claiming one when a group of younger students stepped aside for them.

"Is there a bathroom near here?" Quinn asked, fiddling with the buttons on her button-down dress.

"Straight down there, right next to our French class." Bridget gestured towards a room with a neat sign above it reading ROOM 125. Just next to it were the girl's bathrooms.

"Thanks, I'll catch up with you in a sec." Quinn said distractedly as Bridget turned into their French class, eyeing her usual seat straight away.

Quinn stood in front of the mirror above the row of sinks and washed her hands even though she didn't need to. To the left and right of her were girls she guessed were her classmates. She eyed one girl in the mirror who was applying a little too much make up for her liking. The girl smiled at her briefly, eyeing her beneath her freshly cut fringe before returning to frown in the mirror.

Quinn quickly dried her hands with a paper towel, unsure whether the girl was being nice or had totally overlooked her.

As she emerged from the bathroom, she glanced down the hall hoping Bridget was waiting outside. _She wasn't._

She walked in, passing Bridget who was purposely sat by the exit. The brunette winked at her as Quinn found the only spare seat in the class, front and centre. She noted Bridget was sat on a desk on her own, clearly separated by the teacher on purpose, most likely for talking Quinn guessed, smiling to herself.

"So, Jayme left the Canary islands early to spend time with her father?" The blonde heard as she sat down in her seat. She was sat next to a large chested girl who was pretty but didn't seem very interested in her presence.

"Yeah." The pretty girl next to her said in a bored voice as she played with two Hermes Enamel bracelets on her pale wrist. "I was only in the canaries for a few weeks but she left during her last week there."

Quinn smiled. She never been to the Canary Islands, yet it had been one of her options when she decided to leave home. But Jayme… wasn't that the name of that bitch she met the other day? Quinn calmly smoothed her shimmering blonde hair, limiting any fly always. Hopefully it was just a really popular West side name like Madison or Chloe.

Suddenly, the girl next to her whose books stated the name April Porter looked at her expectantly. Quinn frowned back at her in confusion.

"Steal any more bags yesterday?" she heard a voice behind her. As she turned around, she found herself face to face with her own reflection, looking back at her from the brass buckle of a Louis Vuitton satchel identical to hers. She slowly looked up. Standing there, smiling down at her, was Jayme Regan wearing beige Christian Louboutin pumps and a perfectly worn in pair of apple-bottom jeans, looking even taller and bitchier than she had yesterday.

"Um- no actually. Never have. Did you?" Quinn smirked pointedly looking at the bag before making direct eye contact to warn her to back off. Jayme clearly wasn't going to let the new girl win.

"Next time you might want to visit Target or another outlet from Ohio, you don't want to be out of your league here." Jayme announced, smiling at the two girls behind Quinn. "Also, you're going to have to move, because you're in my seat." Jayme unpacked a notebook and a sleek sliver Montblanc pen from her satchel and spread them territorially over the desk. "You can sit over by the door, in case you need to make a run for it." She suggested in a fake, syrupy voice. "After you steal Madame Kavanagh's purse or whatever."

Her eyes flashing, Quinn stood up and whispered "Fuck you." In Jayme's ear earning a shocked gasp as she shoved past her, signalling for Bridget to move over so she could join her. Bridget hadn't been paying attention, instead carving something into her desk, but her head whipped up immediately, eyeing Jayme dangerously. _No one ever messed with anyone she talked too. That was common knowledge. _

"I wouldn't bother sitting with Bridget. She's miles above you. Find a seat on your own" Jayme ordered, as if Quinn belonged to her. Bridget stood up angrily, her normal calmness had disappeared, something Quinn hadn't witnessed before. _Neither had anyone else._

Jayme suddenly realized she'd made a big mistake. A massive one in fact. She swallowed loudly, stepping back slowly.

With her wrinkly navy fashion blazer, tousled hair and dark shades Bridget-Tate looked like Kate Moss in her rehab years as she approached Jayme, slowly dragging her pedicured nails across the smaller girl's desk, immediately intimating the freckled blonde. "Don't even think about it _bitch. _I would have thought that sort of behaviour was beneath you._" _Bridget smirked, her words fierce as Jayme stepped back in defeat. "Coward." Bridget laughed, taking Jayme's pen from her desk and turning on her heel. "Thanks for the pen babe. Needed one." She grinned as she slid back down next to Quinn, sharing a knowing wink.

_Game On. _

"What was that about?" Bridget asked, pushing her sunglasses of her face and onto her head so she could examine the strawberry blonde glaring at them. She smiled fakely at her and waved. The Upper West side was so full of bitches she thought to herself. "What's her problem anyway?" Bridget asked loudly, not caring who heard since she practically owned the room. Quinn could practically feel all eyes on the two of them.

"I don't know." She whispered back. She hadn't told Bridget about the Louis Vuitton debacle yesterday, knowing Bridget would never let her live it down. She'd simply crawled into B's bed instead, wanting to be with someone. Yesterday had reminded her that she was sometimes still very much alone, but Bridget cancelled out all those feelings.

She pulled her black TSE cashmere cardigan on and buttoned it. Madame Kavanagh walked in wearing an elegant black Tocca pantsuit. She was in her sixties, but had aged well like most of the women on this side of London. She put her books on her desk and surveyed the classroom of girls. Most of them were overachievers like Bridget who had been asked to join French for the second year simply because they had potential; some had actually chosen it the first year. Like Jayme.

"Welcome back girls." She said. "Jayme, as always, a delight to have you here." She added noting Jayme seated in the front. Bridget and Quinn each rolled their eyes. "Since we have some new girls here today, we will be introducing ourselves in French today. Jayme, can you take notes on the board please?"

Jayme stood up. "Of course. Is there any chalk I can _steal?"_ she hissed in Quinn's direction as she swished gracefully to the front of the class, her highlighted hair swinging.

Madame Kavanagh spotted Quinn suddenly and clapped her hands together as if seeing her was the most exciting thing she'd ever seen. Quinn groaned in her seat. _This was turning into her idea of hell. _

"Our new student! Perhaps you'd like to introduce yourself?" She smiled, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"peut-être qu'elle aimerait nous parler de ses choix de mode intéressantes?" Jayme suggested innocently, before Quinn or Bridget could get a word out_. Perhaps she'd like to tell us about her interesting fashion choices?_ She held the piece of chalk up to the board as if Quinn may not realise the sarcasm in her tone and might actually answer.

"_Quelle_ _Bitch!"_ Bridget burst out, making no effort to hide her outburst. Quinn's head whipped round to glare at Bridget, a slow smile gracing her lips which she tried and failed to disguise.

"_Excusez-moi?" _Madame Kavanagh's aristocratic face grew red.

"_Excusez-moi" _Bridget smiled.

_Très Apologetic.._

"Mais, comment dit-on bitch." Bridget continued, speaking in perfect French. _"Parce que je pense que c'est le meilleur mot pour de'cerire cette fille." _She pointed at Jayme.

Quinn quickly parsed the words as best as she could considering she only really knew Spanish. Bridget had spoken rapidly, like a true native speaker, which was impressive. _Except that she'd just announced that Jayme Regan was a bitch._

Quinn hid her smile as she looked down, desperate to avoid Madame Kavanagh's glance. Bridget was still standing, not bothered as the other students watched her, desperate to hide their own smiles.

"_Sortez!"_ Madame Kavanagh demanded. "Too Mrs Mclean's office, please." She added more softly, desperate to maintain some order within the class.

"Au revior." Bridget grinned, and collected her own cognac shoulder bag that she rested over one shoulder rather than across her body. It had be a one of design created by her mother during London's fashion week. "Come on Quinn." She said gently, waiting for the blonde to vacate her seat. Winking at Jayme over her shoulder, Bridget grabbed Quinn's hand and led her out the class, laughing her usual raspy laugh as her eyes twinkled brightly.

"_Nice."_ Quinn grinned, following Bridget into the corridor.

_Well…she could always learn French tomorrow. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Hopefully this will pick up a little more within the next few chapters and I might even start to include some more glee characters very soon. **

**Enjoy!**

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Bridget opened the heavy oak door to Mrs Mclean's office, letting Quinn walk through first as she glared at the word HEADMISTRESS embossed on the gold plaque that hung from it. It sounded so over the top, like West London College was some sort of nineteenth-century finishing school. She slid onto one of the rigid wing back chairs in the waiting area, Quinn taking a seat next to her across from the secretary who was pretending to be busy on the computer.

Quinn was still getting used to the pretension that seemed to ooze out of every corner of the beautiful, yet very large college. Before she'd arrived in London, Quinn had begged for her mother and father to accept her, Rachel not to run away from her and for Puck not to leave her, but none of that was relevant anymore. _This summer had been the best summer she'd ever had._ Quinn had never felt more desperate to be exactly where she was with someone that she felt never demanded anything of her, but just let her _be_.

Bridget shifted in her seat, sighing deeply as she leant back into the uncomfortable wooden chair. "After I've spoken to miss, we can go wherever you like." Bridget offered, drawing a small pattern with her index finger on the back of her notepad resting on her lap.

"Well, I've been thinking…" Quinn started, biting her bottom lip. "Why don't you show me everything _you_ love about this city?" She suggested, her tone smooth and convincing as she raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. Ever since she'd arrived in London, Bridget had guided her round Mayfair, introducing her to the most elite people, taking her to incredible parties and letting her live her life the way _she_ wanted.

Now she wanted to see Bridget's version of London.

Bridget smiled mischievously. "You sure you can keep up, _baby_?" The taller girl teased, her red lips forming a beautiful, playful smile as she eyed the stunning girl next to her. Quinn's laugh twinkled gently as she jokingly attempted to push Bridget of her chair, earning them both a disapproving glare from the stuck-up secretary.

"Don't underestimate me_._" Quinn smirked, earning one of Bridget's ridiculously sexy, raspy laughs.

"Mrs Mclean is ready for you." The skinny, light haired secretary nodded at the walnut door that led into the headmistress's office.

"Thanks." Bridget said with fake sweetness, standing and walking through the door, waving at Quinn before she disappeared inside. She'd never gotten along with that _particular_ secretary, even though Bridget was known for getting along with everyone; _except those who went out of their way to hate her. _

"Hello Bridget." The intimidatingly large headmistress stood up and squeezed out from behind her enormous mahogany desk, casting a shadow over the chair in which Bridget would be expected to sit in.

"Good Morning Miss." Bridget nodded and slid gracefully into a stiff blue velvet chair, tucking her legs underneath her elegantly. The whole room was decorated in shades of red, blue and white. Bridget wondered if perhaps Mrs Mclean believed she was the bloody Prime-minister.

Mrs Mclean looked pointedly at Bridget's usually straight posture, motioning with her eyes for the naturally elegant girl to sit up straight. Bridget swung her feet, before sighing and pulling herself up straighter. For the past sixteen years, she'd only ever been in headmistress's offices for disciplinary reasons. It never changed. Her and her friends; mostly her and her best friend's Jade Lewis and Grace Harvey had been in this office _many _times before. Nothing ever changed.

She'd always gotten praise for her work and back in secondary school she might have even gotten praise for her outburst since she could have spiritedly explained that she was trying to restore some kind of equalisation in the class, but Mrs Mclean knew her too well.

_This was not always in her favour._

"Madame Kavanagh just called down and is quite distraught by your outburst." Mrs Mclean began, taking in Bridget with her muddy brown eyes. "I think you may have beaten your previous track record and earned your first strike before nine thirty am on the first day of term." Mrs Mclean glanced down her nose at her, a smirk playing across her thin lips.

Despite Bridget's unpredictable behaviour, she could never deny she had a soft spot for the brunette's unruly sprit. It reminded her of what life was really about when she needed it. Her friends were no better and it dawned on her that the new girl, Quinn would most likely mean there would be four of them from now on for her to discipline.

_Good luck to her. _

"I think, for the first day, we got off to an exceptionally bad note here, didn't we?"

Bridget grimaced. She hated when teachers used the pronoun _we _when they meant to say _you_, as in, _You really fucked up now, didn't you?_

_Which was exactly the point. _

"Yes miss." Bridget nodded, knowing the game inside out. _But that doesn't mean I didn't mean it, _Bridget thought to herself.

"Okay then." Mrs Mclean coughed, and Bridget noticed a wooden-framed photograph of a farm that stood out amid the red and blue cups of pencils. "Now onto the matter at hand, I _know _what you're like Bridget- Tate. I know only too well. Nevertheless we expect students to adapt to our way, the way of West London College."

Mrs Mclean smiled at Bridget in an almost motherly fashion, and for a fleeting moment Bridget felt a flicker of affection. Mrs Mclean looked a little like Bridget's family maid, just taller_. A lot taller._ And her eyes occasionally flickered in the same friendly fashion.

"I'm guessing you understand and I needn't say much more?" She folded her hands expectedly, as if waiting for Bridget to agree wholeheartedly. The thing is, they both knew this wouldn't be the last time Bridget was in her office, no matter how hard she tried to avoid trouble.

"I understand." Bridget smiled briefly, nodding her head lightly as she unfolded her long legs. Knowing all too well that Miss was never really able to punish her, Bridget stood, gathering her belongings. "Shall I excuse myself?"

"Yes… but Bridget? I don't want to see you again for _at least_ a week. Let's limit the amount of strikes you receive against you name this term shall we?"

"I can't promise it Miss." Bridget smirked, winding her way between the chairs and towards the door. She could hear Mrs Mclean stifle a knowing chuckle as she returned to her seat. She watched as Bridget reached the door.

"Goodbye Bridget-Tate." She spoke professionally, her words clipped as Bridget ducked out the door grinning at a patiently waiting Quinn as she did so. She glanced at the blonde who immediately rose from her seat, waiting for Bridget to tell her what had gone down in there. The beautiful, spirited brunette simply grabbed one of her hands, laughing huskily as she led her out of the office.

"Strike One."

_She'd never really been into baseball, but now she had a new appreciation for it. _

_One strike, two strikes, three strikes. You're out. _

-# # # # # # # # # # # -

"Let's sit in the back" Bridget-Tate said as she led Quinn into Shakeaway's 101 which was situated right on Park Lane overlooking massive quantities of Hyde Park. The narrow, old-timey ice-cream parlour was crowded with parents treating their kids whilst the nannies took the afternoon off. The air was punctuated with the shrill cries of young, sugared-up children, as waitresses hurried to and fro carrying huge bowls of ice-cream, frozen hot chocolate and extra-long hotdogs as well as the world's best milkshakes.

Quinn had thought Bridget would take her somewhere completely different. Somewhere with alcohol or hot waiters Bridget could stare at, wild and completely unexpected where both girls would get completely smashed and not want to go home. _But this was much better. _

Even with the distraction of parents scolding deceptively angelic-looking little boys in button down shirts and khakis from Brooks Brothers, Quinn loved that Bridget had wanted to come here.

It was innocent and endearing, something she cherished in girls who lived under such constant scrutiny.

_Not that Bridget ever seemed to notice. _

"Isn't this great?" she gushed happily. "Me and Hudson used to come here once a week and eat caramel sundaes." She picked up a menu and examined it. "It's still exactly the same. I love it."

Quinn smiled and shook a stray strand of hair from her face. The truth was, Bridget could have dragged her to a barn in the middle of nowhere yet she probably still would have been happy. That was a spell Rachel had had over her and now it looked like she was in danger of that all over again.

She was from Ohio. A life like this was pretty much impossible for Quinn to have even begun to imagine before, and anyway, the way she saw her future back then was turning out to be completely wrong. She'd planned everything around her and Rachel during their last year at school together.

_What a disaster that had turned out to be. _

She should have known things never went to plan, but something stopped her from regretting the day she'd graduated and officially had her heart broken into a million, tiny, earth-shattering pieces. If Rachel hadn't left, she wouldn't have ran away either and certainly not into the arms of a gorgeous brunette stranger in London. Everything had seemed to work out for the best.

Bridget wanted to pinch herself every time she looked into Quinn's glittering hazel eyes which were watching her so intensely she often wondered if Quinn ever really saw her at all. Ever since the smaller girl had turned up at a Coyote bar downtown in London, Bridget had been captivated. She'd been carrying two bags filled dangerously to the top with her belongings and nothing else. Olivia, their boss had agreed to give her a week's trail and then asked Bridget to take care of her for a week. Bridget agreed, being the only one with enough money and space. Since then, they'd been inseparable, spending all summer together.

"Let's get the biggest sundaes on the menu," Bridget said. "We can switch bowls half way through so we don't get bored."

She ordered a Beuno milkshake with a caramel sundae topped with chocolate fudge sauce and Quinn ordered a dairy milk ice cream layed with white and dark chocolate and coffee sauce. Quinn would eat anything with coffee in it, however unusual or weird.

"So," Bridget said, pointing at the paperback sticking out of Quinn's own fashion blazer, "is that good?"

The book was "The Family" by Martina Cole a compelling book of mystery and family ties. "Yeah, it's kind of mesmerising and kind of depressing at the same time." Quinn smiled shyly, "but there's a lot of truth to it, I guess."

"What's it about?"

"Murder."

Bridget laughed. "Whoa." She said, "Do you always read books like that?"

Quinn extracted an ice cube from her water and put it in her mouth, rolling it on her tongue as she thought over her answer. "I suppose so." She grinned. She had just finished reading No Exit which was about love. _And hell._

She liked to read them when she needed to take her mind away from something. They made her think about the tragic absurdity of life and days like today allowed her to think about the brighter side of it.

"I have trouble reading." Bridget confessed, leaning her elbows on the table as her passionate eyes scanned over Quinn's relaxed features.

Their sundaes came. They could barely see each other over the moulds of ice cream. Bridget dipped her long sundae spoon into the bowl and carved out a perfectly enormous bite. Turning the spoon round, she held it up to Quinn's mouth smiling fondly as the beautiful blonde leant over and captured the spoon between her perfect lips, giggling softly as the cold caramel bombarded her taste buds.

"Nice?" Bridget asked, her long eyelashes flicking closed briefly to defend her eyes against the harsh sun.

"Hell yeah!" Quinn laughed, offering Bridget some of hers in return. The gorgeous girl dipped her spoon in to Quinn's bowl. Quinn marvelled at the long, slim angle of her wrist, the taunt muscle of her tanned arms, the bronze brilliance highlighting her hair. They were about the pig out on disgustingly huge sundaes but to Quinn, she looked amazing.

Bridget carried on with their earlier subject, interested. "I mean, I can read, obviously." She continued, "I just have trouble paying attention. My mind wanders, I think about what I'm going to do that night. Or something I need to buy from the drugstore. Or something funny that me and Jade did like, a year ago or something." She swallowed the bite of ice cream and looked into Quinn's understanding greenish eyes. "I just have no attention span." She laughed sadly.

This was what Quinn loved most about Bridget. She had the ability to be sad and happy at the same time. It made Quinn feel lighter in her presence, as if nothing was ever that bad that she couldn't get through it when Bridget was around to turn everything ordinary into something extraordinary.

Quinn scooped the tip of her ice cream into her spoon and ate it silently, swallowing hard as a teasing smile played across her lips. Ice cream melted and coffee sauce spilled over the edge. "I had a crap teacher in Ohio last year." She sympathised, but then scrunched her brow in thought. "I did have one good teacher though…He told us the best way to retain what you read is to just read a little bit at the time. You know, savour the words and all that."

Bridget loved the way Quinn spoke. The way she explained things made her want to remember them. She smiled and licked her lips. "Savour the words." She repeated, the corners of her mouth curving up into a smile. Quinn smiled automatically, leaning back in her chair.

"So, you probably have stuff you want to do after this don't you?" Bridget asked, her head tilted and her eyebrows knitted together in interest. Quinn was being quieter than usual and it worried her a little.

"Not really." Quinn shrugged. She wanted to spend the rest of the day with Bridget, even though falling for the girl who practically put a roof over her head probably wasn't the best idea. She couldn't help it; Bridget was proving to be addictive. Their boss Olivia had warned her, now she wished she'd listened. "I wouldn't mind watching that famous guitarist performing. The one you told me about last week."

Bridget's eyes lit up enthusiastically making Quinn giggle happily. "Oh yeah, he's like a little national treasure of mine." She grinned, blushing lightly. "He's amazing. You'll love him."

"I hope so. I've been waiting for you to take me since you first told me about him." She chuckled. "Okay, ready? Let's switch." Quinn said, pushing her bowl towards Bridget.

They switched bowls and tasted each other's sundaes. As soon as the new flavours rested on their taste buds, their faces contorted and they stuck out their tongues. The coffee was pretty overpowering when mixed with the different flavours. Quinn hoped that wasn't a sign.

"Want to take a walk?" Bridget asked, "I have a lot more of London to show you, _baby_" Bridget teased, knowing Quinn hated when people called her baby. Ironically, she kind of liked it when Bridget did it.

"I'd love to," Quinn replied, "_baby..."_ she added slyly, smirking at Bridget as she stood up.

_Looks like someone's falling… and this time, in a good way. _

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	4. Chapter 4

Regent Street was unusually quiet for a Monday night. They walked west, towards Berkeley Square. At New Bond Street they stopped at River Island and looked in the window. There were still quite a few people behind the cosmetics department, setting things up for the morning rush.

"Did you know," Quinn frowned, never realising it before, "that we met on the first day of summer?" She mused, watching as Bridget's eyes scanned expertly over shoes searching for any imperfections. A cute smile lit up Bridget's face.

"Yeah we did. How do you remember that?" she asked, biting her lip adorably as she linked arms with Quinn, beginning to walk away from River Island. She hadn't linked arms with anyone since she was like six years old and wearing a navy pinafore with a red tie.

Quinn smiled at the memory of seeing Bridget for the first time. She'd been worried she wouldn't have a single word to spare for a Lima Heights girl like herself, but Bridget definitely had more than two words to say to her now.

At Berkeley Square, near the edge of Hyde Park they headed uptown past The Ritz Hotel, where they had both gone to a formal dinner during Quinn's first week in London as part of a black tie event organised for the elite crowd by Bridget's mother Renee. Quinn remembered watching Bridget as she worked the room, wishing she'd known her better. She'd been laughing with a table of friends, dressed in an emerald green strapless dress that made her hair shimmer.

They kept walking up Park Lane, past Kendal William's building on the main street. Bridget gazed up at it. She'd known Kendal since first grade and had been in the William's apartment hundreds of times, but now she was no longer welcome.

She couldn't pretend she wasn't entirely blameless. She knew what had upset Kendal most. It wasn't that she'd left to go Australia as soon as they graduated high school and left Kendal for a whole summer on her own or that she'd been off partying all over Europe even when Kendal was unable to join. What had really turned their friendship sour was that Bridget and Seth Carlson had slept together a month before Kendal and him had gotten together. The problem was they'd never told Kendal, until she accidently found out.

That was nearly two years ago now and Bridget felt like it had happened to some other girl with an entirely different life. Bridget, Kendal and Seth had been such a close threesome. Bridget hoped Kendal would see it as one of those crazy things that happened between friends and eventually forgive her. _It was just a one-off after all._ And besides, Kendal and Seth were still together. They were the real deal and Bridget never wanted to break that up since they were so perfect together. They'd broken up and gotten together again countless amounts of times during their two years together but nothing could break them up for good.

Bridget fished around in her purse for a cigarette and stuck one in her mouth. She stopped walking and flicked on her lighter. Quinn waited as she inhaled and blew a cloud of grey smoke into the chilly air. Bridget pulled Quinn closer to her, wrapping her arm around Quinn's waist.

"Let's go and sit in front of museum for a while." She said. "Come on." She took Quinn's hand and they quickly covered the two blocks to the Natural History museum. Bridget led Quinn half way up the steps and sat down. Across the street was Mayfair Hotel, their home for the foreseeable future. As usual Hudson wasn't in and the windows to penthouse were dark and lonely looking.

Bridget let go of Quinn's hand as they got comfortable and she wondered if she'd done something wrong. Bridget was always a touchy-feely person so Quinn had had to tell herself that them holding hands was nothing but friendship, but it still didn't feel right when Bridget let go of her hand.

She couldn't read Bridget's mind and it was driving her crazy.

"Me, Kendal and Seth used to sit on these steps for hours and just talk about nothing." Bridget told her wistfully, her eyes lost in memories from the past. "Sometimes we were supposed to go out and Kendal and I would get all dressed up, make up and everything and then Seth would show up with a bottle of something. We'd buy cigarettes and just ditch the party and sit out here." She looked up at the darkening sky. Her big, shining eyes had tears in them.

"Sometimes I wish..." Bridget's voice trailed off. She didn't know exactly what she wished, but she was tired of being without Kendal and Seth. She was tired of not saying what she wanted. _And did that include Quinn?_

"Sorry" she sniffed, looking down at her hands as she twisted a Tiffany ring around her finger. "I hope I'm not bumming you out."

"You're not." Quinn smiled gently, resting her head on Bridget's shoulder. She was glad she'd just been able to listen today. Nothing more was needed. She wanted to take her hand back, but it was hidden in her pocket. Instead, she touched her elbow and Bridget turned to face her_. This was her chance. _

Quinn wished she could say something beautiful and passionate to say but she'd always sucked at that kind of thing under pressure. Before her nerves could paralyze her, she leaned in and kissed her on the lips, ever so gently. Quinn's mind stopped thinking and the world stopped racing for just a second. She was glad she was sitting down. When she pulled back, Bridget's eyes were glowing at her.

Bridget tucked a loose curl behind her ear and just smiled at Quinn, memorising her eyes. Then she lifted her chin and kissed her again. Just a tiny kiss on her lower lip, before she ducked her head down and leant it against her shoulder. Quinn closed her eyes to steady herself, breathing in the delicious scent of DKNY perfume.

"Where do you go to hang out when I'm not around?" Bridget half whispered, half spoke. Her voice soft. "Is there a place like this?"

"Not really." Quinn replied, placing a delicate kiss on the top of Bridget's head, her arm around her. She wanted to stay like this forever. It was the first time she'd kissed someone in nearly three years and really felt _something_. "Most of the time I just go to the bar," she shrugged, "at times I sit in one of the lit up gazebo's on the riverbank overlooking the Themes when I need to think." She added.

"The lit up gazebos." Bridget repeated, "Will you take me there one day?"

Quinn nodded. She'd take Bridget anywhere. "You must walk past them every day." Quinn suddenly chuckled, realising they were on the way to college.

"I know." Bridget grinned up at her. "But they always seems so much more magical at night don't you think? And it would be special to be there with you."

Quinn didn't answer the first question, her heart beating too fast to realise she'd even asked one. _Did Bridget really feel the same way or was she just fucking illusional? _

"You mean that?" Quinn asked, fumbling over her words.

"Of course." Bridget nodded innocently, her index finger tracing a small circle on the top of Quinn's dainty hand.

"Good." Quinn smiled softly, her stomach flipping as if ten cheerio's were doing summersaults in there. She waited for Bridget to lift her head so she could kiss her again. But Bridget kept her head pressed into her bare shoulder, breathing in the smoky scent of Quinn's tee-shirt and allowing her nerves to be smoothed.

They sat like that for a while longer. Quinn was too happy and dazed to even light a cigarette. She was hoping they could just stay there all night and watch as the pink light of dawn wrapped around them, still in each other's company.

A few moments later, Bridget pulled away. "I'd better go before I fall asleep." She laughed softly, standing up. She leant down and kissed Quinn on the cheek, lingering as her hair brushed Quinn's ear and she shivered. "See you later tonight, okay?"

Quinn nodded. _She'd definitely see her later that night if she got her way. _"Bridget?"

"Yes?"

"You're okay right?" Quinn asked, concern knitting her eyebrows together. She knew Bridget was naturally calm and extremely collected, but this might have been a little outside of her comfort zone.

"I'm better than okay, _baby_." Bridget teased, winking as she turned around on the step so that Quinn could cheekily check out her perfectly toned ass. "I _will_ see you later. No excuses." Bridget grinned; waving sweetly as she said blew Quinn a kiss.

She watched Bridget run across the street, her gorgeous sexily messy hair streaming out behind her. The doorman automatically held the door to the hotel lobby open, and she disappeared.

Quinn wandered back into the hotel suite an hour later to find it deserted. Two notes were waiting for her beside the phone.

_Q + B, _

_Won't be back at yours tonight, staying at a mates. Feel free to get laid tonight girls. _

_Well not you Bridget. You're still my sister after all. _

_P.S – Olivia called. _

_From H. _

_Well who else would it be?_

Quinn found herself smiling as she crumpled up the note and threw it absent-mindedly in the trash. _He and Bridget were so alike sometimes._ She picked up the next note.

_Q, _

_Olivia called; she needs me to cover for Summer tonight. _

_Left you some of our favourite ice cream btw. DON'T LET HUDSON STEAL IT! _

_Will be home at about 2 ;) _

_From B...x_

Quinn smiled at the note, about to crumple it up but thinking better of it. Instead she tucked into the pocket of her skinny jeans, wanting to keep it. _God knows why._

Wandering into her large double bedroom, she noticed that the maid had swapped her bedding, replacing it with white sheets and a coffee coloured throw that matched the gold and purple cushions on her Queen sized bed. She couldn't wait to fall into bed that evening.

_Alone?_

Picking up her blackberry, she dialled a _very_ familiar number as she peered out her large glass window over Hyde Park. The large grandfather clock in the living area sounded, signalling that it was officially eight o'clock.

"So tell me why you're calling me again?" Puck said grumpily before realizing it was Quinn.

"Nice too talk to you to." Quinn joked. "I'm just calling to tell you that I'm definitely coming to visit you soon. I'm going to book the flights tomorrow for the 12th which is a Saturday."

"Okay," Puck said. She could tell he was smiling. "We usually have a party on Saturday nights. Hope you don't mind."

"Mind?" Quinn laughed. "That's perfect. Oh, and I'm probably bringing a friend." Even if Bridget couldn't come or didn't want to, Summer or maybe even Olivia would most likely be able to. She'd have to ask them when she next swung by the bar.

"What kind of friend?" Puck asked. Quinn rolled her eyes. She didn't know if she was ready to go back home but at least visiting New York wouldn't be too bad. It was seeing Puck that could potentially really mess with her head. He was the only member of the glee cast she'd stayed in touch with so far, but of course, he spoke to Santana who was with Brittany who was friends with Rachel who was still in touch with Finn whose brother was Kurt who's best friend was Mercedes so there'd always be some silent connection between all of them.

"Just this girl Bridget I've been staying with. No big deal Puck." She smiled. "You'll like her, I promise." She knew he'd like her. Probably a little_ too_ much.

_Who was she kidding?_

He'd be like a puppy looking for its mother once he got a glimpse of Bridget. She might have to arrange a set of rules for him she suddenly decided, making a mental note.

"How's Santana?" she asked, a little unsure whether things would be a little awkward between her and the Latina if she suddenly arrived at her college dorm room. Hopefully it wouldn't be, but she hadn't exactly _told _the feisty girl she was leaving. She more or less just went, regardless of what she left behind.

"She's alright." Puck said. "Listen, I'm kind of busy. I have to go."

Quinn realized that Puck was most likely not alone. He always seemed to have at least three girlfriends whom he slept with on a rotating basis.

"You're such a stud. Okay, see you soon."

"Can't wait!"

She clicked off, grinning. She sort of missed Puck and his disgusting boyish ways. She could never understand how he ended up in college. Let alone how he got a placement in the same college as Santana. She guessed luck had simply just been on his side.

She stood up and padded over to her closet and opened the door to get dressed. Inside, were all the same boring clothes she always wore. But she was a college girl now, a London Student studying photography and psychology as well as a few other extra subjects. Didn't she deserve to buy herself something new?

She pulled on her favourite diesel jeans and replaced Bridget's MTV tee-shirt with a black cashmere sweater since it was practically night now. _Her favourite time to go shopping._

At night, Harrods was practically deserted and she felt like an Egyptian princess as she prowled through the legendary store. It was also when celebrities preferred to shop which often proved to be interesting. She got ready quickly, ready to visit one of her new favourite places in the whole world; _Harrods_!

When she got there, Harrods was just emptying out whilst a few last minuet Upper West siders wandered in, unable to resist. The buzzing, brightly lit ground floor, its glass cases filled with unique jewellery, gorgeous scarfs and one of a kind purses and its countertops littered with sleek beauty products, made every day feel like Christmas. At the Creed counter, Quinn admired the pretty glass perfume bottles with the same delight Bridget had displayed earlier at the ice cream parlour. Moving on to the Kiehl's counter, she was tempted by a jar of deep-cleansing natural clay face masque. Of course, she already had enough beauty products combined with Bridget's to last ten years, but she loved trying out new ones. It was kind of an addiction.

_Nothing wrong with that. There are definitely worse addictions. _

Quinn was about to ask the man behind the counter if the masque was okay to use on her skin since she didn't like using anything too harsh when she noticed a familiar figure striding purposefully through the store to the men's department.

It was Kendal Williams. Quinn blinked twice, readjusting her eyes. Quinn had only met Kendal once and that had been one of the most awkward experiences of her life. They'd met when Kendal had been returning some of Bridget's stuff to her apartment; she'd accused Quinn of being a thief who shouldn't have been there, especially not half naked. She'd then had to explain that she'd lived with Bridget and had done the whole way through the summer.

_Clearly Kendal didn't approve of Bridget's newest choice of friends. _

Quinn put down the jar of masque and followed her.

Kendal wasn't sure if Harrods was going to have what she was looking for, but that was because she didn't know what she was looking for. Seth wasn't going to be impressed by a new sweater or a nice pair of cufflinks. She had to find something unique. Sexy but certainly not cheesy. It had to be cool. And it had to remind Seth that she still loved and wanted him. Kendal headed towards the underwear department.

First she found a table covered with an assortment of colourful cotton boxer shorts. Further on were racks of luxuriously soft terrycloth bathrobes and flannel nightshirts, shelves filled with boxes of plain old underwear and skeevy bikini/thong type pants. None of these would serve. Then Kendal caught sight of a rack of grey cashmere drawstring pyjama bottoms.

She pulled them of the hanger and held them up. MADE IN ENGLAND, the tag said. PRICE £360.00. They were casual yet sophisticated. Handsome, yet so soft and delicate that the idea of them brushing up against Seth's bare skin made Kendal feel almost _horny._ She crumpled the pyjama bottoms in her hands and pressed them against her cheek. The scent of fine cashmere filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes, imaging Seth wearing the pyjama bottoms without a shirt, his perfect chest exposed as he poured them each a glass of champagne in their Dorchester hotel suite.

They were definitely sexy. There was no doubt about it.

Quinn pretended to be very interested in a red terrycloth bathrobe, _size extra-large_. It was certainly big enough to shield her from Kendal and the rack it was hanging on was set up so that her view was completely unobstructed. She wondered if she was buying something for her boyfriend, Seth. Bridget had told her all about him and their little adventures together.

_Lucky guy; the pyjamas she were looking at were gorgeous. _

Back in the good old days as Bridget had described them, Kendal probably would have asked Bridget to help her choose a present for Seth. Clearly it wasn't like that anymore and it made Quinn curious.

"Are you looking at a gift for someone?" a sales guy asked, approaching Quinn. He looked like a bodybuilder, bald, tanned and practically busting out of his suit.

"No, I –" Quinn faltered. She didn't want the man to start dragging her round the store, showing her things and risking being seen. "Yes, for my brother. He needs a new bathrobe." She lied. _She didn't even have a fucking brother._

"Is this his size?" the sales guy asked, pointing towards the one she'd been looking at.

"Yes, it's perfect." Quinn said, "I'll take it." Her eyes darted over to Kendal, who was walking over to the counter carrying the pyjama bottoms. "Can I just give you my credit card here?" she asked the guy, turning to bat her long- lashed hazel eyes at him. She pulled a credit card out of her purse and handed it to him.

"Yes of course Miss." He said, whisking the bathrobe of the hanger and taking her card. "I'll be right back."

Quinn watched as he disappeared over to the counter, right by Kendal.

"It's a gift." Kendal told the man behind the counter, handing him her credit card. The card had her name on it, but it wasn't actually _hers._ It came out of her mother, Rose's account. Kendal's parents didn't give her an allowance; they just let her buy whatever she needed, within reason. A pair of nearly four hundred pounds pyjama bottoms for Seth when it wasn't even Christmas didn't exactly fall into the "with-in reason" category, but Kendal would find a way to convince her mother that the purchase had been absolutely necessary.

"I'm sorry, miss." The man behind the counter told her, "But your credit card has been denied." He handed the card back. "Is there another card you can use?"

"_Denied?" _Kendal repeated. Her face felt hot. This had never happened to her before. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Quite sure." The man told her. "Would you like to use our phone to call your bank?"

"No, that's okay," Kendal said. "I'll just come back some other time." She put the credit card back in her Prada Purse, grabbed the pyjama bottoms and turned away, heading back to the rack where she'd found them.

The cashmere felt so buttery soft in her hands it made her sick to think of leaving the store without them. What was the deal, anyway? It wasn't like the money in her mother's account had just like, _run out_. But she couldn't exactly ring her mum and ask her about it, since she'd lied to get out of the house in the first place, saying she was going to a movie with Seth.

The man had removed the heavy plastic security tag, Kendal noticed before she put the pyjama bottoms back on the rack. She also noticed that there were a lot more pairs of grey cashmere pyjama bottoms left. Would they really mind if she just…_took them?_ No she couldn't. But it wasn't as if she hadn't tried to pay for them. Besides she'd spent enough money in Harrods before. She deserved a free gift.

Quinn waited for the burly sales guy to come back with the massive bathrobe she hadn't meant to buy and her credit card receipt. She watched Kendal start to put the pyjamas back, and then stop.

"I'll just need your signature on the _X_." The sales guy told Quinn. She turned around, and he handed her a big black Harrods's bag with the robe tucked neatly into a black box inside.

"Thanks." Quinn said. She took the credit card slip and knelt down on the floor to sign it, using the black box as a surface. Across the carpeted floor, she saw Kendal crouch down between two racks of flannel nightshirts and stuff the pair of cashmere pyjama bottoms hastily into her purse.

_She couldn't believe it. Kendal was stealing!_

She didn't know her very well, but even she knew Kendal's standards were well above that sort of petty behaviour. She'd made that pretty clear when they'd met.

"Thank you." Quinn said, standing up. She pressed the receipt into the sales guy's hand, grabbed her shopping bad and headed straight for the exit. Even though she had done nothing wrong, seeing Kendal made her feel like she had. She couldn't wait to get out of there.

After pushing her way onto the street, she turned up Regent Street, walking quickly. The shopping bag banged against her leg as she scurried along, her steps eventually slowing. She'd gone into Harrods to look for something new and cool for herself and come out with a men's size extra-large bathrobe._ What was she doing spying on Kendal anyway? And what the hell was the blonde doing stealing! _It wasn't like she was hard up or anything.

_Still, Kendal needed to watch her steps. News travelled fast in London. _

Kendal left Harrods and turned up Regents Streets, her pulse racing. No alarm had gone off and no one seemed to be following her. She'd gotten away with it! Of course, she knew it was wrong to steal, especially when you had plenty of money to pay for things, but it still felt kind of exhilarating to do something completely illegal. It was like playing the villainous femme fatale in the movie instead of the pure and stead-fast girl next door. Besides, this was just a one-time thing. It wasn't like she was going to turn into a major shoplifter or anything.

Then she saw something that made her stop in her tracks. At the end of the block Quinn Fabray's long, golden hair gleamed in the last rays of sunshine before sunset as she waited for the light to change. A large black Harrods bag was slung over her arm. And just before she began to cross the street, she turned around and looked straight at Kendal.

Kendal ducked her head down, pretending to be looking at her Rolex. _Shit_, she thought. _Did she see me? Did she see me taking those pyjama bottoms?_ Considering Quinn was the new girl she looked down on, this didn't bode well for her.

Keeping her eyes down, she opened her purse and dug around for a cigarette. When she looked up again, Quinn had crossed the street and was fading into the distance. _So what if she did see me?_ Kendal told herself. She lit her cigarette with nervous fingers. Quinn could go ahead and blab, telling everyone that she'd seen Kendal Elle Williams stealing from Harrods but no one would believe her.

_Right?_

As she walked, Kendal dipped her hand into her purse, touching the addictive cashmere. She couldn't wait for Seth to put them on. The moment he did, she knew she'd know exactly how she felt about everything and he'd know he was one of the luckiest men alive. Nothing Quinn said could come between that.

_Not so fast. Giving someone stolen goods is bad karma isn't it? It can work against you in the most surprising ways. _


	5. Chapter 5

Quinn rode up in the elevator, jangling her keys in her hand. A few weeks ago she wouldn't have been this excited to return to the hotel suite, but tonight her pulse was racing as she neared the top floor.

Walking into the apartment, she crossed the shiny laminate floor to the modern sideboard where the phone was set up and through down her keys, resting the Harrods bag down next to it. Their hotel suite was a mess, clothing and pillows slung all over the place and Hudson's art work was leant against the wall. Bridget's professional camera had disappeared from the coffee table next to Quinn's and the tall brunette's heels were next to the sofa.

"Bridget? You home?" Quinn called out, kicking of her own designer sandals.

Bridget was out on the terrace, swinging slowly on the hammock, her camera in hand. She heard someone coming, but she didn't turn her head. "Hey baby girl." She smiled behind the camera, raising it to her face as Quinn leant against the French doors, watching intently.

"You're back early." She smiled, padding across the terrace as a light breeze ruffled her hair. Bridget turned and snapped a few photos of the beautiful girl walking towards her, smiling. Lowering the camera from her face, she scooted over to make room for Quinn.

"Well…yeah I wanted to see you." Bridget smiled shyly, which was completely endearing. Quinn went to sit next to her, but then walked behind the hammock instead, running her hands through Bridget's silky, long hair.

"Tell me if it hurts." Quinn whispered, brushing her hair with her delicate fingers. Bridget closed her eyes and let her shoulders drop. For once, she wasn't thinking about Josh_ or_ Seth, she wasn't bothered about her reputation or what people said and she certainly didn't care if anyone disapproved of her growing feelings for the stunning blonde. _Fuck them_. She was just breathing in the night air, enjoying the gentle tug and pull of Quinn's fingers in her hair.

"It doesn't hurt." She told Quinn, "It feels good."

Quinn could feel her relax under her touch as her fingers grazed over her shoulders, but she could sense something had upset Bridget at some point. She pouted. "Did something happen at the bar tonight?" she enquired softly, titling her head slightly.

"Josh turned up." Bridget sniffed, shrugging as if it was no big deal. Quinn felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. "He wanted to get back together. We were meant to have sex in here tonight." Bridget joked sadly, but her eyes didn't match the sad smile she tried desperately to disguise her emotions with. Quinn stopped running her hands through her hair momentarily.

Quinn moved round in front of Bridget, bending her knees slightly so that their eyes were level. Taking the dancer's soft hands in her own, she lifted the girls chin so that their lips were almost touching. "He doesn't deserve you." She spoke softly but clearly, her eyes desperate.

"And I don't deserve _you_." Bridget pouted sadly, looking down at their entwined fingers. She wanted to reach out and run her hands across Quinn's perfect collarbone, softly connecting their lips as she pulled her closer. But she didn't.

"Your right." Quinn nodded, connecting their eyes together once more. She felt like the world was spinning as Bridget's passionate eyes glanced over her lips, filling her with need. "You deserve more than I can give you."

Bridget shook her head gently.

"That isn't true. You're everything I need." Her eyes smiled back at Quinn, her voice barely auditable. Quinn practically melted beneath Bridget's gentle eyes. The brunette's thumbs ran over Quinn's bottom lip painfully slow, memorizing its outline.

"Kiss me." The request was barely a breath from Bridget's mouth.

Quinn swallowed hard as she lowered herself to Bridget's lips, allowing them to brush lightly, sharing each other's breath, before she closed her eyes and captured the perfect mouth with hers.

Her chest fluttered and her breath was sucked from her lungs, but she held on to that kiss until her blood boiled with its need for oxygen. They both gasped and panted for the air they were so desperate for, but pushed the pain of their burning lungs to the back of their mind and met with another passionate kiss.

Bridget stood up, wrapping her arms around Quinn as she pushed her back against the glass doors with a passionate, desperate force.

This time Quinn ran her fingers into Bridget's tousled locks and pulled her closer, never wanting to let go.

The dancer didn't mind, only gasping for breaths between connections of their lips. Quinn relished the sweetness of Bridget's mouth that she'd dreamed of for so long. The only thing better was when Bridget granted the blonde access inside her mouth and their tongues met for the first time. Quinn moaned at the contact as they fought for dominance. She didn't care who won, she just wanted more.

Bridget broke them apart briefly, taking hold of Quinn's hand and gently guiding her through the second lot of French doors into her outrageously large master bedroom. Their bare feet padded across the wooden floor, their breathing irrational as Quinn turned and pushed Bridget down onto the bed beneath her.

With the forcefulness rising with their desire, Quinn abandoned the beautiful English girl's bruising lips for her neck and Bridget gasped with approval of the first nip of skin. The brunette clung tightly to the smaller girl, hooking her arms over her back, hands locked onto her shoulders, pulling her closer.

Their warm bodies pressed tightly together as Quinn traced Bridget's perfect jaw line from one side of her neck to the other with desperate kisses and hot breaths.

For the first time in three years, Quinn felt the want and the need that she thought she'd never feel again. Bridget's emerald green eyes were freckled with gold as they pierced into her dark, chestnut hazel eyes desperate with arousal.

"I need you." Quinn confessed as she kissed Bridget's lips again.

The brunette writhed under Quinn as she rocked her hips, connecting with Bridget's core. "I need you too baby."

An animalistic growl ripped from the back of Quinn's throat at Bridget's words and she trailed wet kisses down the column of her neck, licking and nipping at her collarbone, while a hand slipped under the dancer and unhooked her bra with ease. The grazing fingers sent chills up the brunette's spine and she began shaking with anticipation.

"Show me." She growled, her nails scraping down Bridget's nearly bare, toned torso.

Bridget knew it was Quinn's first time in three years. But she just didn't realise that she'd done _this _before. Turning them over and pining Quinn beneath her, Bridget paused, her eyes scanning the girl's topless figure beneath her. It was flawless.

_She_ was flawless.

Quinn opened her eyes, swallowing hard as Bridget hovered above her effortlessly. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation, but their eyes never broke apart.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bridget asked gently, leaning down and whispering into her ear, her hot breath blowing a trail down her neck causing Quinn to shiver. Quinn nodded; words no longer comprehendible. She wanted this more than anything else in the whole world.

Bridget stroked her cheek and kissed her lips once more, pulling Quinn closer by her hair. She trailed kisses along her jaw, then along her collarbone, rewarded by Quinn's desperate moans.

"I promise I'll take this slow." Bridget promised, kissing along Quinn's jaw line gaining hushed groans and needy moans as the vulnerable blonde tangled her hands in her long, soft hair pulling and pushing.

"I trust you Bridget." Quinn confirmed softly. It was almost silent as she pulled Bridget to look her in the eyes.

Her eyes were intense yet soft and instantly her nerves subsided. She was anxious for a reason she couldn't describe, but as Bridget's eyes focused on her lips and drew her unconsciously closer to wrap her in a comforting, gentle kiss every worry the blonde was harbouring magically disappeared.

"I'll make this something you'll never forget." Bridget promised between addictive, smouldering kisses.

"You don't have to _try_ to do that. You've managed that already." Quinn husked, loving the way Bridget's hands moved expertly along her body sending chills down her spine with every stroke and gentle touch along with the rough pulls and feisty pushes. It was everything she thought it would be as her body felt more alive than ever before.

Every nerve felt electric as Bridget hands wandered sensually sending her further into a world of oblivion. She'd never felt like this before. It surprised her how she could feel so lost in this new world of desire yet completely safe at the same time.

Bridget chuckled sexily into Quinn's hair sending the blonde's hips bucking as her minty breath tickled her neck and her delicate fingers ran teasingly up her inner thigh.

The smaller girl's hands wandered endlessly, but Bridget just teased her by flaunting what she wouldn't allow the girl to have. Not right at that moment anyway.

The agonizing slowness was driving Quinn crazy as she tasted the girl's apple flavoured lips and pulled her honey hips flush against her own, not even able to remember when she'd removed Bridget's top. Or denim shorts either, come to think of it. She flipped them round fiercely and pushed Bridget roughly against the mattress, moaning as Bridget's own groan of weak protest and frustration escaped her lips.

"Take me." Quinn moaned into her ear, holding the girl's hands above her head and attaching her searching lips to the soft skin on Bridget's neck. The fight for dominance continued as soon as Bridget regained control of her mind. Her strength and commanding strategy taking Quinn by surprise. It wasn't often Quinn let anyone dominant her. Never in fact, but at that moment Bridget had done just that and the blonde had surrendered willingly. It drove Quinn crazy as they twisted and turned, slamming into every surface possible and gasping as they kissed each other passionately, Bridget drawing Quinn closer to her edge with every kiss or touch.

The rest of the night continued like that.

Flashes of flawless skin, Bridget's toned stomach tensing as she reached that much anticipated moment, or the arch of Quinn's back against the floor as she screamed Bridget's name were enough to wake up the rest of the hotel, but neither girl cared.

"How was that?" Bridget grinned down at the girl whose head was resting on her chest as she listened to the smoothing steady heartbeat.

"No words." Was all Quinn could say as she peered up into Bridget's smiling eyes. It had been everything to her, like falling in love all over again. She was sure it was only Bridget that had ever had that effect on her.

_Hadn't she loved Rachel?_

She had, but she realised most of it was just teenage drama back then. Someone she could experience love and pain with without_ really_ feeling it. Now was the real deal. And for the first time, she wasn't freaked out about that.

Bridget chuckled softly, her raspy tone evident. "I didn't realise you were going to take control." She grinned to a blushing Quinn who buried her head further into her t-shirt.

"Neither did I to be honest." Quinn laughed, loving the way nothing seemed like more than it was around Bridget. "I just…I needed you. I've waited since the beginning of summer remember?" she asked, pouting.

Bridget laughed. "Yes, I do."

They laid there, naked and hot, neither one of them wanting to move. It was Bridget who finally got up, wrapping a sheet around her. Quinn watched in awe as the gorgeous girl climbed out of bed, the sheet partially see-through and displaying her beautifully tanned complexion and long, endless limbs. She couldn't believe her luck.

Bridget walked over to the TV and clicked it on. "I wonder if they get the Playboy channel in here. We could watch disgusting porno's and order beer from room service." She joked, knowing that was most likely what her brother and his mates did when they had nothing better to do. She carried the remote over to the bed and sat down.

"Give me that." Quinn grabbed the remote out of Bridget's hand playfully, grinning. "We can watch American Pie if you want?" she asked, flicking through the channels. She knew she'd most likely fall asleep anyway.

"Alright." Bridget said, piling up the bed pillows so she could lean against them. "But can we order a pizza or something? I'm _starving._"

Quinn scooted back so that she was right next to Bridget. She nodded in agreement, passing Bridget her mobile from the side table. The adverts ended and American Pie flashed up on the massive screen. She settled in to watch, leaning her head back against the pillows until it was resting only inches from Bridget's, strands of her long shimmering hair mixing with Bridget's bronze ones.

"How did you end up taking photography as an option?" Quinn suddenly asked, realising that without it, they most likely wouldn't have met.

"I've been completely addicted to it since my aunt gave me her camera." Bridget smiled at the memory, keeping her eyes on the screen. Quinn looked up at her, a hint of a smile across her lips.

"How old were you?" she almost whispered, knowing the history between Bridget and her aunt. She'd died in a car crash when Bridget was fifthteen and that had pretty much destroyed the girl.

"I was nine." Bridget whispered, closing her eyes briefly as if to block out the memory. She placed a kiss on Quinn's forehead, letting the girl snuggle closer before returning her eyes to the screen. She turned the volume down a little. "I love it. Just like I loved having her around." She admitted.

Quinn nodded silently, keeping her head pressed to Bridget's shoulder offering silent affection.

"It's hard to explain." Bridget concluded, resting her head on Quinn's as the TV flashed in the dark room.

"Try me." Quinn said, interested in how it had captured Bridget the same way it had captured her. It was addictive.

"Well… you know those deserted dance studios next to Olivia's bar?" Quinn nodded, "That belonged to my aunt when she was alive. She left the building to me in her will… I haven't been back there since. Everything stopped when she died, including my involvement with the dance school. It housed some of the most prestigious dancers in the country but since she died, I couldn't carry that on. I was only fifthteen." Her powerful eyes were glittering with tears, but she carried on. "When I was nine I decided I didn't want to do ballet anymore, I wanted to be a street dancer but my mum didn't want me too. My aunt did though. She let me in the studios after hours and I'd dance until midnight. One day, she gave me a camera and told me to photograph some of the dancers to build their portfolios. That's when I fell completely in love with it." The brunette continued, Quinn's eyes watching her as she explained. "Even though I know I will never catch every essence of beauty, it's the feeling I get knowing that there is always more to see. That each picture exposes just a little bit more of every dancer's story. It's personal, but only as personal as you want it to be."

Quinn's breath caught in her throat as she watched Bridget's eyelashes fluttered against her cheek. A feeling of affection that Quinn hadn't experienced before washed over her. She wondered what it was. But part of her didn't want to know.

"Why did you take photography?" Bridget asked, glancing down at the perfect girl in her arms. She loved that Quinn felt so vulnerable and petite in her arms, but Bridget knew all too well that Quinn was feisty and often misunderstood. She watched the blonde think over her answer, considering what really made her fall in love with photography.

"It was my ex-" Quinn began, pausing to gauge Bridget's reaction to the term 'my ex'. She continued to watch her, waiting for her to explain. "She loved taking photos of us together, but she wasn't very...erm, quick. Quick to pick it up I mean." Quinn smiled fondly at the thought of Rachel taking photo's upside down. "I guess I just fell in love with the idea of being able to see something in real life that's so beautiful and knowing no one will get to see the real thing but me. Not the way I've seen it anyway. I suppose I love that it's all about my interpretation. A way to express things I could never say." She stared back at Bridget, who was watching her intensely.

"I understand." Bridget whispered, lowering her lips to Quinn's.

"I knew _you_ would."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for any reviews that have been left and to all of you who have added my story to their favourites or alerts. Means a lot and I'm really grateful for any feedback. **

**Thank you to Isabel Duncan who sent me an amazing speech about love to use in this fanfic. I loved it and have used it although I've edited it in places. Changed quite a bit but I hope you still love it as much as I do! **

**Please feel free to send me anything if there's a particular direction you think this should go in ect. **

**Sorry for any mistakes in advance. **

**Enjoy…**

**So I've heard that chapter six isn't coming up some people so I've reloaded it and then re-submitted it. Hope that works! Let me know of not. Sorry to anyone that thought this had been updated, but the next chapter is coming very soon! **

**Thank you once again. Enjoy..**

The next morning, Bridget expected to be woken up to the sound of Quinn's voice. Instead, she was woken up by the sound of her mother's voice after letting herself into their suite.

"Bridget darling? Can I come in?"

"What?" whispered Bridget, trying not to disturb a sleeping Quinn as she sat up in bed. She still wasn't used to her mum's unexpected visit's using Hudson's key. It kind of sucked. But she'd never been more grateful her and Quinn had gotten cold and pulled on a couple of Hudson's t-shirts.

The door opened a few inches. "I have some news for you." Renee told her, hushing her voice as she peered into the room. She could see tangled blonde hair and assumed it was Kendal.

Bridget didn't really mind that her mother had woken her up, but she didn't want her mother to just feel like she could barge into her room uninvited any time she felt like it. "Okay." She said, sounding more annoyed than she really felt.

Mrs Carlyle came in and sat attentively on the end of the bed. She was wearing a navy blue, silk formal dress by her own label, Indigo and matching heels. Her wavy dark-highlighted hair was pulled into a loose bun on top of her head and her skin had a pearly sheen from years of using La Mer skin cream. She smelled like Chanel No.5.

Bridget pulled her knees up under her chin and covered her smooth legs with the silk comforter. "What's up?" she said softly, realising there was no way Quinn would be waking up any time soon.

_She'd been exhausted last night after round three. _

Bridget hid the trace of a smile that graced her lips. Now was not the time to think about last night. She had to wait until her mother was gone before she could let her mind wander like that.

"Lorraine Williams called last night." Her mother told her, "and guess what?"

Bridget smiled and rolled her eyes at her mother's attempt at suspense. "What?"

"She's getting married."

"To that Joseph guy?"

"Yes of course. Who else would she marry?" Her mother said, brushing imaginary crumbs from her four hundred pound dress.

"I don't know." Bridget admitted. She frowned, wondering how Kendal had taken the news. Probably not very well. Even though her and Kendal hadn't exactly seen eye to eye lately, Bridget could still empathize with her old friend.

"The unusual thing is," continued Mrs Carlyle in a slightly raised whisper "they're doing it just like that." She snapped her bejewelled fingers.

"What do you mean?" Bridget said, glancing at Quinn. She hoped she wouldn't wake up. Even though Renee wouldn't think anything of it, she couldn't be sure of what Quinn would say.

"Thanksgiving weekend," her mother whispered and raised her eyebrows to make the point that this was very unusual indeed. "The Saturday after Thanksgiving is the wedding date. And she wants you to be the photographer as well as a bridesmaid. I'm sure Kendal will fill you in on all the details. She's the maid of honour of course." Renee smiled, patting the comforter that covered Bridget's knees.

Renee stood up and began straightening the scattered Creed perfume bottles, little boxes of Tiffany jewellery and tubes of Stella make up on top of Bridget's dresser. "Don't do that, mum," Bridget whined and closed her eyes.

The Saturday after Thanksgiving. That was only three weeks away. It was also Kendal's birthday, Bridget realised. _Fuck_. Kendal loved her birthday. It was _her_ day. Obviously not this year, though.

And what was it going to be like to be a bridesmaid when Kendal was the maid of honour? Would Kendal purposely make her wear a dress that didn't fit? Or make sure she couldn't have a plus one so that Quinn was excluded? Or even make her walk down the aisle alone just to embarrass her? It was too weird to even imagine.

Her mother sat down again on the bed again and stroked Bridget's hair. "What's wrong, darling?" she asked, worriedly. "I thought you'd be excited about being a bridesmaid."

Bridget opened her eyes. "I have a headache, that's all." She sighed pulling the comforter around her. "I think I'm just going to lie here and watch TV for abit, okay?"

Her mother patted her foot. "All right. I'll send the maid in with some coffee and juice for you. I think they had some croissants too."

"Thanks mum." Bridget said. Her mother stood up and went to the door. She paused and turned around to smile brilliantly at her daughter.

"Autumn weddings are always so lovely. I think this is quite exciting."

"Yes" Bridget smiled, fluffing up her pillow. Quinn looked so adorable tucked up in between the covers. "It's going to be great."

Her mother left, and Bridget rolled over and stared out of her window for a moment, watching birds take flight from the rich green treetops surrounding the roofs of various expensive townhouses. Gently, she lowered her lips to Quinn's shoulder pressing a tiny kiss to her bare shoulder, working her way slowly, teasingly up the blonde's neck towards her jawline.

"Good morning beautiful." Bridget smiled into the kiss as Quinn reached up and pulled Bridget closer. The kiss was perfect as Bridget captured Quinn's delicious lips with her own; waking her up the only way she felt was right, now.

"Hmm…This is perfect." Quinn murmured, snuggling into Bridget's side as they pulled their lips away from each other hesitantly. She felt Bridget chuckle softly as she held her securely, making her feel safer than she had in years.

"It is" Bridget smiled as she pressed a soft kiss to Quinn's forehead. "I don't want to move." She wined, leaning her head against the silk covered headrest that reached up to the ceiling. She didn't want her mum to barge back in and realise it wasn't Kendal next to her.

"Then don't. Stay here with me, all day." Quinn smiled, looking up at Bridget's shimmering emerald eyes. She wanted nothing more than to stay side by side with the brunette all day. It was like they were fused together in all their uncertainly, happiness and pain which had pulled them together in a way Quinn could never begin to describe.

She didn't want anything more. Bridget was everything she wanted and everything she could give was Bridget's.

She rested her head on Bridget's ample chest, listening to the steady beat. "I wish I could." Bridget smiled, stroking Quinn's arm. "By the way, my mum barged in here this morning." Bridget said suddenly, laughing softly when she saw the sudden alarm on Quinn's face. The blonde automatically looked down to make sure she'd remembered to put something on after last night. "She thought you were Kendal." Bridget laughed, reassuring the blonde with her care-free tone.

"Oh my god. You had me panicking then!" Quinn scolded, a grin appearing across her pink lips. Bridget dodged the playful slap Quinn attempted to give her.

"Sorry baby…Want to have a shower?" Bridget suddenly asked playfully, slowly standing up as the blonde smirked. The brunette always made her forget why she was mad before she got the chance to scold her properly. Now was an example as this as her mind went completely blank at the brunettes words.

"I'll be in there in a second," Bridget smiled, backing away from the bed and towards the door. "Just going to check that my mum actually went home." She said as Quinn pulled herself out of bed. It was typical of Renee to say goodbye and then spend an hour talking to one of the hotel maids in their living area.

"I'll be waiting." Quinn smirked, earning a cheeky wink from Bridget as she disappeared into the open living area.

Two seconds later Quinn was already in the shower and Bridget had done a quick examination round the suite, double locking the door. Discarding her lacy underwear and I love London top in a pile on top of Quinn's clothes, Bridget approached the shower, smiling at Quinn's already familiar tune as she hummed Nothing like the Real Thing to herself.

"You won't believe what happened yesterday." Quinn gushed with a huge grin on her face as Bridget stepped into the shower with her, wrapping her arms around the slender blonde from behind and swaying side to side as she giggled. It was only eight am and Bridget had already taken a shower after Quinn had fallen asleep the night before, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to see the blonde. She hadn't seen her for all of two seconds.

"Tell me then."

"Well, first, I arranged for us to go New York."

"That's erm, not what I was expecting but good." The dancer congratulated her with a kiss on her arm before she pulled away to wipe water away from her eyes. "Why though?" Her brow suddenly dropped in confusion as she then continued to sway the blonde back and forth, her chin resting gently on the blondes shoulder.

"I'll get to that later." She smiled over her shoulder. "Then, I went to Harrods and brought an extra-large men's bathrobe." Bridget arched an eyebrow, amused as she tried to contemplate what Quinn could possibly need that for. She'd have to model that for her later so she could get a picture. "Then after I paid for that, I witnessed Kendal stealing a pair of men's pyjama bottoms."

Bridget twirled Quinn around, wide-eyed. "What? Hold on...I'm missing something. Kendal has never stolen anything her life."

Quinn laughed and kissed the brunette's nose before moving her to the side so she could get under the water. "I don't know what made her do it." Quinn admitted. "One second she was at the till, the next she was stuffing them in her bag and making a run for it."

The dancer hesitated. "Did they catch her?"

She didn't really want to know. The thought of Kendal stealing made her feel slightly uneasy, yet part of her was a little amused that the strawberry blonde had had it in her to push the boundaries of criminal behaviour in a store like Harrods.

"I don't know. I was out of there quicker than her." Quinn chuckled at the memory, realising how stupid she'd been to feel so vulnerable when she'd done nothing wrong. "So how was your day yesterday?"

"Well, nothing compared to yours." She laughed softly, her honey complexion glistening with beads of water. "But I did get asked to be a bridesmaid this morning."

"That's great. Who for?" Quinn asked, enthusiasm evident in her addictive voice. She loved weddings. London always glowed with pride and love as if it knew two special people who were utterly in love were vowing to be each other's forever, something that was missing from every wedding she'd ever witnessed in Ohio.

"Lorraine." Bridget said her face suddenly downcast as she watched the beads of water trace down her long legs. "Kendal's mum." She reminded the blonde.

"Oh shit." Quinn suddenly caught on, seeing the dilemma. It wasn't as if Bridget could simply back out of that one, but it wasn't like she'd be able to accompany her either to make sure everything went okay. Kendal would do everything in her power to make sure a girl like her wasn't allowed near the elegant, refined wedding.

"It's okay." Bridget forced a tiny smile, placing an affectionate kiss on the tip of Quinn's nose. "I think my mum will be overseeing Kendal's responsibilities anyway." Quinn nodded her head, happy for that.

"How was it last night at the bar? I didn't get to ask you last night. Anybody start any crazy topless bar fights?" she laughed at the memory of some of their most entertaining nights working in the coyote bar. Its un-predictableness and familiarity was a fond part of Quinn now. The only place she'd entered during her first night and now she knew what had drawn her to the wild, tucked away bar. It was where she'd first met Bridget.

"Josh called."

Quinn froze for a second and looked down at Bridget who was avoiding her eyes. "And?"

"He would like to come see me today. To apologise properly."

The blonde swallowed hard. "You would have thought he would have taken the phone call as the opportunity to apologise. What did he say?"

The dancer shrugged and let Quinn rinse her hair as she studied the girl intently. It never quite sunk in how beautiful Quinn was to her. "He just said that he was hoping to smooth things over with me so that our past feelings didn't jeopardize our friendship and our families. He said he loved me. He wants me back. "

"Where the fuck does he get off turning all of this into your fault somehow and now he's asking for you back? If he hadn't been such a jerk to you in the first place..." Bridget cut her off with an index finger to her lips, followed by a light kiss.

"I know, but I got to vent a little and I'm surprisingly not as mad at him as I was before. I mean, I'm still angry and hurt..."

"Of course."

"But...I guess the initial wave of it is gone. I said all the things that I've been holding back for a while now. The anger's not as heavy anymore."

Quinn nodded slowly. "So, were you wanting to get back together with him?"

"I..." She paused and met Quinn's concerned eyes. "I don't know. I mean, I think I've found this perfect girl with gorgeous eyes and the most amazing smile anybody's ever seen." She began peppering kisses along Quinn collarbone, moaning in time with Quinn's pleasurable groans of affection. "She's funny…And sensitive… and intelligent… and absolutely sexy as hell… and she's mine…If she wants to be that is?" Quinn pulled back, running her hands along Bridget's neck and placing them on either side of Bridget's face. She studied the intense flicker in Bridget's eyes as she traced her nails up Quinn's arms causing her to shiver with anticipation.

She didn't know if what Bridget had just asked was really true. She hoped it was, but she couldn't be too sure since it was all happening so quickly and Bridget had never really been one to think things through. But this felt right. _Too right._

"You mean that?

"Quinn, you don't need to ask me that." Bridget smiled, knowing what was stopping Quinn. She had always been impulsive, that's part of why Quinn loved her, but it was also what scared her. Bridget held both her tiny hands in her own and pulled her closer, lowering her voice as she locked their passionate eyes together. ""I believe, only once in your life, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you've never shared before and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that may never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something amazing happens, you can't wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never will they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn't exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day's work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there's no need for continuous conversation, but you find you're quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there's a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. I've found that being vulnerable is the only way to allow myself to feel true happiness that's so real it scares me. I find strength in knowing I can come home to you, too see the way you watch me so intensely whilst I do stupid things like seeing if a can learn a song on the piano in less than five minutes or eat breakfast whilst teaching Token to dance and reading a book at the same time. I've never managed it, but with you I feel like we can manage anything. Since you arrived at the bar that night, things that I couldn't live without before seem irreverent now. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. And that's because of you Quinn. As friends or as something more, as crazy and impulsive as this seems, I want to be yours. Not his. If you'll let me?"

Quinn smiled deeply, a tear of happiness escaping her eyes and Bridget wrapped her arms around her again. "That isn't even a question baby. I want to be yours too and only yours," She reached up and pulled Bridget lips to hers, embracing the smooth curves beneath the tips of her fingers as her other hand tangled in the brunette's long locks. How are you so perfect?" she breathed. Bridget ducked her head and looked up at her through her thick, long eyelashes, forgetting the water beating down on them and the steam surrounding them, locking them away from the rest of the world.

"Because I've wanted you since you walked into Olivia's bar that night and demanded a bottle of vodka." Bridget smiled, wiping the stray tear from Quinn's soft cheek. "I fell in love with you then and there. I just never wanted to admit it. My mind was filled with memories of me and Josh; up until you arrived I thought he was the one…I've realised, nothing compares to what I see what I look at you."

Quinn felt like she was melting under Bridget's delicate touch. Nothing anyone had ever said to her had been so perfect. It reconfirmed everything in her mind that was telling her Bridget was worth every risk she could possibly take in life.

She was lost for words as their foreheads rested against each other, hands running freely over each other's naked bodies. She swallowed hard, her need to devour every bit of the British girl growing intensely.

"_I love you B_."

"_I love you too baby girl." _

_That was all Quinn needed to know she was absolutely, unmistakably, head over heels in love with the most flawless girl on the Upper West Side. And she loved it. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Not my best chapter but thank you for the reviews so far! **

**Slowly building up to introducing more characters, sorry it's taking so long but I hope it's worth the wait. **

**As usual, sorry for any mistakes. Will be updating a little quicker this time as part of the next chapter is already written, just deciding what should happen next! **

**Enjoy! **

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Quinn had been waiting, sprawled on her bed as the clock hit six o'clock. She was still there waiting when it hit six fifteen. Then she started getting impatient and was about to get pissed when there was a knock on the door.

"I know. I'm sorry. Traffic was ridiculous." Joshua Owen explained to Quinn as she opened the door and the tall, classically handsome boy walked straight in with purpose. "So, how about we just get right into this." He asked, rubbing his hands together in an impatient fashion as he turned to face the blonde.

"I want to start." The blonde cut him off in probably the hardest, most definite voice she'd ever used. She had no doubt in her mind about what she was about to say. It took Josh back.

"Okay. Sure."

Quinn waved for the muscular, dark haired boy to sit at the table in her room and she took the seat across from him. "I wanted to take this opportunity to talk you about a few things...without Bridget knowing until I tell her myself." Josh nodded, still a little uncomfortable with this. "What my thing is with you... I know how this type of thing works and always ends up. You can't just ring a girl up after bringing a hooker to her apartment and then simply apologise, expecting her to want you back. You screwed her over Josh. A relationship doesn't work like that and we both know it. You caught Bridget off guard. Gave her something that she had never experienced before and it confused her. But it's not fair to keep ringing her, telling her you want her back, believing she'll respond to your beck and call. She's with someone now, so if you love her then you'll take my advice and back off,"

"Quinn, right? I-"

"Hey. You said I could go first, so listen to me." Josh cocked his eyebrow, liking the blonde's feistiness, before gesturing for the striking blonde to continue. "I asked Bridget a question the other day, and it got me thinking. I asked her if it was the mystery she was into or all of you. She said it was simply because you made her happy, but she never felt like you were truly _hers _and she never really wanted you to be_._ But here's the thing Josh...It's not about you anymore. I'm sorry you screwed up the way you did, I really am, because I see what you've lost and it must hit you really badly at times, but do you love Bridget? I mean really love her?" She paused, but Josh sensed he wasn't actually meant to reply. "I sense that you don't. Well, at least not the way_ I_ love her." Quinn admitted. Josh nodded his head in slow realisation as Quinn slouched back in her chair and furrowed her brow slightly. She'd been expecting a slightly bigger response than that but the boy kept his gentle yet guilty eyes firmly fixed on the table.

"She's the girl I _want _to be with. I just screwed up emotionally because I was scared I wasn't enough." Josh mumbled, surprising Quinn a little. He felt incredibly un-masculine admitting that Bridget was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with to a young woman he barely knew, but if this blonde wanted to make Bridget hers, he wasn't about to just let her go without a fight. "I won't just give up if that's what you're asking." He shrugged, placing his strong hands in his frayed Abercrombie and Fitch jean pockets as he slouched further in his seat, his cheeks blushing slightly. "She's too much to lose. I've only really just realised that recently, I'll admit it."

Quinn shrugged. "I'm not the one for fighting. I'm not the one for a relationship either usually, but the effect Bridget has on me is irreversible…And you better believe I'll fight for that."

Josh smiled, silently challenging her as he nodded his head in understanding. He shifted his weight in his chair, causing Quinn to get a little nervous. It looked like Josh was more stubborn than she first believed.

"Look, you don't really believe all that do you? Bridget's impulsive…It's who she is; she won't change, not for anyone. What you have with her, it's nothing but a phase and what I did? It wasn't what it looked like. That's why I wanted to speak to her."

Quinn leant forward on the table, studying Josh's attractive features from behind her long eyelashes. It annoyed her that even she could see his appeal. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome, but that didn't affect her, not the way he was obviously hoping it would. "I won't give you any sympathy." She warned. "And this _isn't_ a phase."

"Only time will tell blondie."

Quinn was un-amused by the indirect threat and stood up from the table, grabbing her bag. "We certainly will" Quinn stated with confidence. She had every ounce of faith in her and Bridget. "and you made yourself go without because you wouldn't let her deal with this before your...poorly thought out confession." Josh shrugged his shoulder in acceptance of the blame.

"I can't take that back."

"I wouldn't expect you too."

"I will make it up to her though."

"_I don't think that's possible." _

"_I do…Because I love her too." _

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Bridget-Tate sipped on one her brother's classic Beuno milkshakes and squinted lazily across the square from her perch on the steps of the Natural History Museum opposite their hotel. Her abundant rich brunette hair overflowed onto her tanned shoulders and she shivered in the slight afternoon breeze. There it was again on the side of the number 127 bus – the ad for A Thing of Beauty. Her mother's biggest selling campaign for her designer label. Bridget was the 'It Girl' of the moment.

She had no problem with the way she looked in the photo. She liked how the chilled spring air had whipped her yellow sundress up between her St. Barts-tanned knees, and how even though she'd only been wearing sandals and a sundress in the middle of Hyde Park at the end of March, ready for the beginning of spring, the goosebumps had been carefully airbrushed out to disguise her shivering. She even liked how she hadn't been wearing any lipstick, so her perfectly full lips looked sort of chapped and bruised. It was the distant look in her eyes that bothered her. She'd always been referred to as _fierce_, but she just didn't see it in that campaign ad.

Of course, that's what had caused her mother to call the campaign 'A thing of Beauty' in the first place because it was so simple and elegant, but the real reason Bridget had been so distant was because of her continuous arguing with Kendal and a one night stand that had gotten her hooked. She'd hated the advert ever since for reminding her that her spacious look was all because of a certain girl that had nailed her on top of a bar and then mysteriously disappeared into thin air. But now she loved it again.

She had Quinn. No girl could top that.

Feeling characteristically care-free and happy-go-lucky, she pulled a Gauloises cigarette from out of her rumpled cognac shoulder bag that rested in a chic fashion over her shoulder. She lit it, and then just watched it burn, falling gradually to the ground in an array of ashes. "Fuck Josh." She murmured as his last cigarette burnt in her hand, but then she broke into a smile when she saw Quinn, walking up the steps towards her looking a stunning as usual.

She picked up the extra-large caramel latte she'd brought which was Quinn's favourite, stood up and held it out. "Kick ass heels." She remarked, admiring Quinn's newest accessories which had seemingly ventured from her wardrobe into the blondes. She smiled adorably, as Quinn nudged her gently.

"You can borrow them," Quinn offered generously. "But if you spill anything on them then I'll have to kill you." She joked, as she tugged on Bridget's hand. "Come on, we're gonna be late."

The two girls ambled slowly down the steps and up Leighton Avenue towards school, sipping their drinks as they went.

Light wind blasted through the blossom trees, making Quinn shiver. "Jesus, it's cold." She hissed, making Bridget chuckle. After their shower yesterday, they'd both spent all day messing around in the hotel's pool before retiring to their bed again and then Quinn had spent hours teaching the brunette about her family as they'd explored London together, hand in hand. _That was after her interesting chat with Josh Owen of course. _

She'd opened up to her about her history with Puck, her tainted friendship with Santana and her strained relationship with her parents as well as finally talking about Beth for the first time in three years. At the end of it, Quinn had felt about ten stone lighter and Bridget ironically felt as if she had been mowed down by a bus. It had been a lot to take on since it had come out of nowhere, but it brought them closer and neither girl was complaining about that.

Finally, Quinn had been able to break down a wall she'd be trying to climb over for years.

She tucked her hand into Bridget's rich cream leather jacket the way only a best friend could and smiled to herself, realising they were more than just best friends now. She felt like she was walking hand in hand with a younger, more sophisticated Kate Moss. "So," she began, watching as leaves rustled along the brick pathway. "Would you be up for coming New York with me?"

Bridget contemplated it for a second. Her cousin Nate Beckford attended college in New York so it would be nice for her to make the effort and visit him since he was her _favourite_ cousin and they had always been so close. It seemed stupid to pass up an opportunity to see him when she missed him so much. _Plus she wanted to spend time with Quinn of course._

"Yeah sure. I'd like to catch up with a cousin of mine that goes to college in New York." Bridget said, taking a sip of Quinn's coffee. "He'll like you." She added, handing the coffee back. "I'm sure."

"I hope so. I want you to meet one of my friends as well."

"That's cool. I want to, since you haven't introduced me to any of _your_ friends yet." Bridget laughed freely, her raspy tone driving Quinn mad with its sexiness.

"Well since they live in America that's been rather difficult." Quinn giggled. She wanted Bridget to realise how much she'd been wishing she could have introduced her. She wanted everyone to see exactly who she'd fallen in love with simply because Bridget was _her _andnothing but herself. She didn't make any apologies for being exactly who she was and that, to Quinn, was incredible.

Unknowingly to her, the brunette had fallen in love with her for similar reasons.

"Good point." The two girls crossed Leighton Street against the light, banging against each other as they ran to keep from getting mowed down by a taxi. When they reached the sidewalk, Bridget suddenly stopped in her tracks, her huge green eyes gleaming excitedly. "_Hey!_ You can officially move in with me this weekend!" Bridget suddenly remembered, almost spilling Quinn's latte as she spun round enthusiastically.

Josh had called her to cancel meeting up the night before, but had given her _some_ good news. He'd been able to tell her that his dad, who owned the company working on her water logged apartment, had officially finished renovating her apartment and it was ready for her whenever she wanted. She'd squealed in excitement for a second before realising Josh was no longer someone she wanted to share her enthusiasm with, so she'd hung up.

Quinn tossed her half-empty latte in a nearby trashcan, scrunching up her nose as she tried to figure out what Bridget was going on about. _They already lived together didn't they?_

"My apartments going to be ready for us this weekend. You can live in Nate's old room," Bridget continued excitedly. "And you can come skiing with us during the holidays." She always went skiing with Nate and their families at least once a year. It would be perfect to have Quinn along for the ride as well.

Quinn moved closer to Bridget again and blew hot air into her petite hands, squinting at her girlfriend through the steam rising from a vent in the wall of an old fashioned townhouse. Sometimes she couldn't comprehend what was going through the brunette's mind, but that didn't stop her from finding the dancer incredibly cute. "Help me move my stuff in this weekend?"

"How about tonight? We can re-decorate!"

"Okay, help me move my stuff in after college?" Quinn asked, suddenly as excited as the brunette. Admittedly, anyone would think they were moving far too fast as a couple if they knew, but what people forgot was that they were also best friends and best friends could never move to fast.

"Course I will. Nate doesn't live with me anymore since he met some blonde and moved away so the room's all yours to do what you like with." Bridget shrugged. "Hey, they might even have put a skylight in!" Bridget grinned, knowing her apartment was on the top floor and through continuous flirting with three burly builders she had persuaded them to at least attempt to put a skylight in. She wondered if they'd managed it. _Probably not_, she pouted, kicking some leaves out her way.

"You're crazy." Quinn chuckled, smiling up at the brunette with loving eyes as she watched the girl scan everything around them with excitement. _She had certainly had a coffee this morning,_ Quinn realized, smiling.

Bridget slipped her arm through Quinn's and whispered in her ear, "You _know_ you love me."

Quinn smiled and rested her tired head against Bridget's shoulder as the two girls turned towards the school. _Weekday mornings were not her thing._ Only a few hundred yards beyond stood the great royal blue doors of the West London High College. Ponytailed girls in navy pleated uniforms milled around outside, chattering away as the notorious pair of seniors approached.

Just for living with Bridget, Quinn had already earned herself a respected reputation. _Kind of._

"I heard Bridget Tate got a huge modelling contract after that campaign she did for her mother. She's going to bring her baby back from France. You know, the one she had when she was sixteen and got kicked out of school before she came back to the city? All the supermodel's seem to have children." Jasey Coleman chirped indulging in the gossip surrounding the pair.

"I heard she and that new girl Quinn are going to raise the baby together rather than attend college. Quinn decided not to go back home to that god awful place she came from so she could help Bridget and abandon her sex life, and obviously, Bridget's had enough sex to last her a lifetime. Just look at them." Intoned Laura Reed. "Total lesbo's."

_Oh, if only they knew. _Quinn smirked to herself, snuggling closer to Bridget and shooting them a _yeah_, _keep talking bitches, _smile. She'd learned it from the best; a very special Latina from Ohio.

"I bet they think they're making some big feminist statement or something." Isabel Coates observed.

"Yeah, but they won't feel good about it when their parents are, like, forced to _disown_ them," Kati Parker put in.

The first bell rung, summoning the girls into college.

"Hey." Bridget and Quinn called over as they passed a group of girls on their way inside.

"Cool shoes." Kati and Isabel sang back in reply, even though only Quinn was wearing new shoes and they weren't even hers.

"Little backstabbers_." _Bridget whispered into the blonde's ear causing her to smirk. Bridget was wearing the same old scuffed brown suede lace-up boots she'd been wearing since the October before.

Quinn always looked adorable and impeccably well dressed, and Bridget always looked gorgeous anyway, even in her chic, frayed school uniform. Which was another reason for the other girls to hate the pair, or love them. Depending on who you were and what mood you were in.

But they didn't have time for backstabbing.

_They had an apartment to redecorate together and New York to visit!_

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"You can stay in here." Bridget told Quinn as the two girl's dragged Quinn's overstuffed duffel bags into Nate's room. "My cousin took his TV and stereo and everything with him, so it's kind of bare in here, but we'll hang out in my room most of the time…" Bridget smiled as Quinn smirked playfully at her in the mirror.

"That's okay," Quinn said, continuing to look around. Compared to the ultra-modern yet classic décor of the rest of Bridget's expensive apartment, the room was pretty sparse. A contemporary double bed stood under the double sized windows that faced down Park Lane, Harrods and Hyde Park. Beside it was a long, low dresser and on the opposite wall was a desk and chair, all in the same matching stylish ash grey. On the floor was a fur rug in a deep shade of red that highlighted the gleam of the wooden floors. The closet was a walk in closet and the door stood partially open so that Quinn could see the silhouette of what she assumed was Nate's old demin jacket.

Quinn breathed in the room's musty wood smell. The idea of sleeping in the lair of an older boy she didn't know was strangely exciting. Not that she planned on sleeping there; she was going to sleep in Bridget's room. "Do you mind me unpacking my stuff anywhere?" She didn't know why she asked, but it just seemed appropriate.

"Sure, go ahead." Bridget flopped on the bed and pulled a _Playboy_ magazine out from under Nate's mattress, scrunching up her perfectly straight nose as she flicked through it.

Both girls were to savvy about what boys really do when they're alone in their rooms to squirm and scream at the sight of _Playboy._

Quinn pulled a pair of her favourite jeans out of her bag and opened the closet. Beside the demin jacket, two white J. Press button down shirts with frayed collars and cuffs hung next to a barely worn Hugo Boss tuxedo. On the floor of the closet was a pair of beaten-up tennis shoes and next to them was a Prada shoe box.

Quinn glanced at Bridget, but her girlfriend was completely transfixed, scrutinising the work of _Playboy_. She knelt down, wondering whether he'd left the shoes behind by accident, since no one left Prada shoes behind. The black box was dusty, and when she lifted the lid she found there were no shoes inside, only a small girlish notepad which could have easily been Bridget's.

Gingerly, she lifted it out and opened it to the first page. The handwriting was scrawny and childlike yet enchanting.

_Dear Natie, _

_Thank you for a wonderful summer. I don't want to go back home, but I guess I have to because Santana says the plane will leave without me otherwise and I don't want that. Well, I do, but I don't. You know what I mean don't you Natie? I want to see you again but Santana said the only way that can happen is if you come New York, so please try. I left you a picture that I thought you might have forgotten about and I don't want you to forget me. I remember what I promised you, I will never forget you and I know you won't forget me because of this picture. _

_I love you. _

_From Britt. Xxx _

_P.S…the shoes are for when you next attend one of those charity things with those twinkling lights we danced under. I hope whoever you end up with loves the shoes as much as I do. Bye Nate...from B, xxx _

Quinn turned the pages to read more, but it was filled with drawings and random notes they'd left to each other whilst they'd been together. Her heart beat loudly as she reread the first and only real letter. How crazy was it that Nate, a boy she barely knew, had seemingly been in love with a certain blonde that Quinn felt she knew all too well? She even recognised the writing. It was impossible to forget. This had to be Brittany Pierce who had written this. _It just had to be_.

She stood up and walked over to silver-framed photograph on top of Nate's dresser. The Carlyle-Beckford family were all sprawled on a beach somewhere in their bathing suits, all with tanned skin, dark brunette or dirty blonde hair, white smiles and huge, piercing green eyes. But someone stood out, and that was the tall blonde in-between Bridget and Nate who had her arms wrapped around the boy's neck as she rested her head against him. Quinn could tell the picture was only taken a year or two ago since Brittany's fringe, which she'd gotten at the end of tenth grade, had almost completely grown out and Bridget was wearing a dainty ring on her finger that Quinn knew she'd only inherited two years ago. So Brittany must have been at least eighteen and Nate must have been nineteen.

In his weather-beaten blue surf shorts his body looked muscular and ready for action, but his handsome face was completely relaxed; content as he held the blonde in his arms.

_Why didn't I ever realise this before?_ Quinn wondered to herself realising Bridget had the same photo on her laptop. Behind her, Bridget rustled the pages of _Playboy._

"Does Nate have a girlfriend?" Quinn wondered out loud.

"Let's ask him ourselves." Bridget tossed the magazine on the floor and reached for the phone, a mischievous grin playing on her face. She was used to bothering Nate at least three times a week so that she could chat about anything whilst he complained about his permanent hangover.

"Hey Nate, you free to talk?"

"Sure am." Nate yawned in reply.

"Guess what you're missing tomorrow night?"

"Let me guess…another boring function our parents used to drag us around." He laughed, then stopped abruptly as if realising any movement hurt his vulnerable head.

"Yeah, some art thing at the Linton Gallery." Bridget answered tiredly. "It's really not worth going, but Quinn will be there so it's not half as bad. Anyway, she wants to ask you something." And then, without warning Bridget tossed the phone to a surprised Quinn.

Quinn caught it and held it in her hands. "Hello?" she heard Nate say. She put the phone to her ear.

"Hey, it's Quinn. Um, I'm staying in your room. I hope that's okay."

"Sure. Hey, listen, B told me a couple of days ago about you's two, but don't worry about what people say. It's all unimportant, as long as you are both happy…" Quinn's eyes widened a little. She hadn't realised Bridget had told anyone about them. She was waiting to freak out, to suddenly get all mad and lash out, but she didn't. Instead, she smiled. "And don't give a shit about what anyone else thinks. Bridget told me how amazing you are after you've had your morning coffee," he teased, earning a chuckle from Quinn in response. She couldn't argue with that. "So don't worry about a single thing… just don't sweat it okay?"

"Okay." Quinn promised tremulously. No wonder Bridget and Nate were so close. He was absolutely the sweetest, coolest boy alive!

"So, are you coming Skiing with us over break or what?" he asked.

Quinn kicked off her turquoise flats and wriggled her red-painted toes. She liked the matted, soft feeling of Nate's rug beneath her bare feet. "I'm supposed to be going to visit one of my friends over break."

"No, you're not," Bridget interjected from the bed. "She's not!" she yelled, loud enough for Nate to hear. "She's coming skiing with us!"

"You don't really _want_ to go back home do you?" Nate asked, half-gently, half-mockingly. "You'd much rather go skiing with us."

_He was right._ She didn't really want to go anywhere near America if she could help it, but part of her did want to see Puck and perhaps even Brittany. She deliberated, mauling over the options in her head. Seeing Britt would be really cool, but there was no guarantee she was even in New York, let alone still with Nate. But it was still worth going wasn't it?

Suddenly she decided, she'd simply put forward their flights to New York and visit Puck earlier than she'd planned and then her, Nate and Bridget could catch a flight to France together.

"Yes." Quinn told him, her voice still a little hesitant. "Yes, I think I will come." She smiled down the phone and then at a boisterous Bridget who was grinning at her from her seat on Nate's bed.

_It looked like she was going skiing this break._

She said her goodbyes, as did Bridget before clicking of and throwing the phone aside. Fuck unpacking, Quinn quickly decided.

She had a certain brunette that she suddenly had the urge to devour. She cocked a perfect eyebrow as she crawled across the floor slowly, creeping towards Bridget painfully slow.

_She never could resist the brunette in cute little daisy dukes and pouting red lips. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Sorry for any mistakes…It isn't as long as normal but I hope you'll like it. Will be updating soon – Yes, hopefully Rachel will be appearing soon. I have her chapters already planned out, just playing around and seeing what works best. **

**Thank you for the reviews!**

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After some light shopping in the Chanel store on the ground floor, Lorraine Marie Williams and her bridesmaids rode the elevator up to Peaches' & Cream spa on New Bond Street. Bridget had managed to persuade Quinn to join her after resorting to bribery using chocolate covered strawberries and a jacuzzi. She'd had to ask Lorraine if it was alright for Quinn to join of course and the older woman had been whole- heartedly enthusiastic to have the blonde joining them since she assumed Quinn was friends with _both_ Kendal and Bridget.

Lorraine, Kendal, Renee, Grace Harvey, Jade Lewis and a reluctant Bridget and Quinn were all there for their milk-and-honey foot and hand treatments, sea mud facials, and, of course, to chat about the wedding. Afterwards they were supposedly having lunch at Lorraine's favourite hotel, The Ritz. Quinn had made a compromise. She'd go to the spa as long as her and Bridget could skip lunch and create their own desert. And she had a little bit more on her mind than simply ice cream.

The spa was like a busy restaurant, except it smelled like John Frieda shampoo mixed with Herbal Essences and hair gel instead of food. It was big and bright and the employees rushed to and fro, servicing woman in beige, cashmere bathrobes that they wore as they prepared for pampering. Nearly every woman had the same platinum and strawberry-blonde highlights in her hair. It was this season's trademark hair colour of West London this summer.

"Ciao! Ladies if you please follow me," cried Pierre, a skinny Japanese boy who worked on the reception. Bridget pressed her lips to Quinn's head when no one was looking, smiling innocently. Quinn stifled a laugh, knowing exactly what the taller girl was thinking.

_This was going to be interesting._

"I've got three of you booked in for your facials whilst the other four are having your pedicures. Follow me, follow me!"

Kendal didn't know how it happened, but she soon found herself seated between her mother and Bridget with Quinn sat on the other side of the brunette with their feet all soaking in bowls full of milk and honey, while Jade and Grace and Renee were all having their facials.

"Doesn't this feel nice?" Kendal's mother cooed as she sunk back into her chair.

"My milk smells off," said Kendal. She wished she'd told her mum she'd meet everyone at the restaurant, like her aunt was doing.

"I haven't had a pedicure in a while." Sighed Bridget, gently touching Quinn's hand in a secret promise that it would all be over soon.

"Same, I haven't had one since last month." Said Quinn, only really addressing Bridget since she didn't know Lorraine very well and certainly wanted to avoid talking to Kendal if she could help it. "My feet are so nasty; I wouldn't be surprised if they turned my milk sour."

_I wouldn't be surprised either_, Kendal thought to herself.

"How do you want your nails?" her mother's manicurist asked as she massaged her fingers.

"I like them rounded, but not pointy." Her mother advised.

"I like mine square," Bridget and Quinn told their manicurists.

"Me too." Kendal said, although she hated to say she liked anything Bridget did.

Kendal's manicurist slapped her wrist playfully. "You're so tense. _Relax._" She said. "Are you the bride?"

Kendal looked at her blankly.

"No, that's me," her mother answered cheerfully. "It's my second time," she whispered, winking annoyingly at the manicurist. Kendal felt her muscles tense up even more. How in hell was she supposed to relax?

"I saw these wonderful cashmere pyjama bottoms in Harrods's men's department yesterday," her mother continued to ramble. Immediately, all three girls tensed. "I was thinking of getting a pair for Joseph as a wedding gift." She turned to Kendal. "Do you think he would wear them?"

Bridget and Quinn each glanced at Kendal nervously. Now was Bridget's chance to bust Kendal and get her back for being such a bitch. But Quinn's soft touch made her think twice. She could have said something like, "Hey Kendal, didn't I see you _buying _a pair of pyjama bottoms just like that at Harrods last week?" But Kendal's face was growing redder and redder and Bridget didn't have the heart to say something. Or rather, she had too much heart. Kendal was obviously screwed up enough to have stolen something in the first place – she didn't need to screw her up even more.

"I don't know, mum." Kendal said miserably. Her neck felt itchy. Maybe she was having an allergic reaction and would have to be rushed to hospital. _Like her luck was that good at the moment. _

The manicurists finished massaging their hands and sat down on low stools to rub their feet and calves with lavender scented oil. "You never told me how you and Seth are getting along. I hope he's ready for the wedding," Lorraine said, her eyes blissfully closed. "Hudson and Seth will look so handsome. You're both going to look so beautiful together." She enthused.

Kendal accidently kicked a puddle of milk onto the floor.

"Careful," her manicurist advised.

"Sorry," snapped Kendal. "We're fine mum, really great actually. He's just been busy since he got back from Oxford." That was a lie. They were anything but fine. She hadn't even heard from Seth ever since he'd had his interview for Oxford University last weekend and he hadn't visited her like he normally would have.

Beside her, Quinn let out a sign. "I had an interview there last weekend as well. Me and Bridget went up there." Quinn contributed, feeling a little bad that she hadn't really invested in the conversation yet. She didn't want Lorraine to think she wasn't having a good time. _Even though it was true._ "It was terrible. The think the interviewer was having a bad day or something. He was such a jerk."

_Oxford? Bridget and Quinn were at Oxford last week end?_ Alarms, sirens, bells and whistles were all sounding loudly in Kendal's head. It was no secret Seth had loved both her _and_ Bridget since they were like five. Maybe something happened and that's what all his weird behaviour was about.

"I'm sure you did better than you think you did, sweetie." Mrs Williams assured Quinn. "Those interviews are so awful. I don't know why they put so much pressure on you girls."

Kendal splashed another puddle of milk onto the floor. She couldn't keep still. She wished the manicurist would just let go of her leg. "When was your interview?" she asked both of the other two girls. She didn't care who answered, since they'd both gone together, she just wanted the damn answer.

"Saturday." Quinn said, wincing slightly. Bridget had introduced her to Seth whilst they were there. She wasn't sure if she should mention that. She had a feeling she shouldn't considering Kendal's not-so-secret insecurities surrounding Bridget and Seth's friendship.

"What time on Saturday?" Kendal demanded. Bridget sat up a little straighter, shooting Kendal a warning glance as the strawberry blonde seemed to grow less and less patient with Quinn.

"Twelve." Quinn said.

"Seth had an interview there," Kendal challenged, aiming her glare more at Bridget than Quinn. "His was at twelve on Saturday, too."

Bridget took a deep breath, squeezing Quinn's hand tighter between the chairs. "Yeah I know." She said. "I saw him there."

Kendal flexed her foot in anger. _What the fuck?_ The manicurist slapped it gently. "Relax." She warned.

"Seth hasn't called me since he got back." Kendal growled. Her blue eyes narrowed as she stared at Bridget's annoyingly perfect profile.

Bridget shrugged. "Me and Seth don't really talk anymore," she said. She certainly wasn't going to tell Kendal that Seth had offered to buy her and Quinn lunch and that the three of them had spent all evening together laughing and taking shots. They'd even confided in Seth about their relationship and although he'd been a little confused at first, he'd been completely supportive of it after agreeing he wouldn't tell Kendal. But they hadn't spoken since they'd gotten back to the city – that much was true.

Quinn squeezed her hand once more; silently communicating that it was okay if Bridget thought now was the right time to tell Kendal they were together. But both girls knew it wouldn't defuse the tension, although it would ease some of Kendal's worries.

"Where has Seth been, anyway?" Kendal's mother yawned. The foot massage was sending her to sleep. "I haven't seen him in ages."

"Me neither," Kendal hissed, and she was certain Bridget had something to do with it. "I wonder why."

Both Quinn and Bridget knew Kendal was waiting for some kind of confession. Bridget closed her eyes, swallowing hard. "Don't look at me." She said. But the minute she said it she wished she hadn't. It was almost like she was asking for it. Quinn jumped in, realising it couldn't get any worse.

"Look, Kendal. Me and Bridget are, well we're…We're,"

"Together." Bridget finished for her, realising the blonde was a little hesitant. She hadn't expected Quinn to say it, but once it was out there, it was too late to take it back. And she didn't _want_ to take it back. She shared a comforting smile with Quinn and the blonde instantly felt content inside as she slipped her hand into Bridget's as if confirming what they had just declared.

Kendal stood up abruptly at the sight, spilling her hand bowls of milk on the floor and almost tipping over her foot bath.

"Shit!" The manicurist squealed, sliding of her foot stool and landing in the puddle of milk. Bridget screwed her eyes shut as Quinn watched in surprise.

"Kendal, what on earth?" her mother cried.

"Excuse me," Kendal said tightly. Hot tears of rage gathered in her eyes. "I just can't sit here any longer. I'm going home!" She glanced down at her manicurist. "Sorry about the mess," she said. Then she stormed out of the room, slipping slightly on the wet tile floor.

"I'm sorry about Kendal." Lorraine apologised to everyone in the room, but pacifically towards Bridget and Quinn. "She's rather touchy about this kind of thing since her father left. She'll come around though. I think its great girls."

Bridget grimaced. She knew Kendal wouldn't come around to the idea of her best friend sleeping with another woman since she'd completely frozen her father out when he'd come out and moved to France with his boyfriend. Of course, that was slightly different, but Kendal still wouldn't even look at a picture of her father so Bridget had no chance.

"I don't know what's wrong with her." Lorraine said. She was worried about her daughter, but she wasn't about to give up her day of pampering to chase her down the street. Even Bridget and Quinn's declaration of new found love wasn't enough for her to start gossiping today.

Bridget shook her head. She had nothing to do with whatever problems Kendal and Seth were having, although she was definitely curious. And she was kind of worried about Kendal, too, despite how incredibly bitchy Kendal had been lately. She appeared to be having some form of mental breakdown.

"She's probably just nervous about the wedding, especially after all this." Bridget said, although she was pretty sure that the wedding accounted for only a tiny portion of Kendal's problems. "You know how she gets."

Lorraine nodded. God, did she ever.

**/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/**

Bridget emerged from the doorway of her giant bedroom, towel drying her wavy locks as she padded towards the blonde in front of her. Quinn was sat on the floor leaning against their champagne coloured, leather sofa as she flicked through photo's Bridget had captured on her camera since they'd met. The huge open living area was spacious and modern as the windows stretched up from the laminate floor to the ceiling and the dark wooden beams added character to their neutral apartment.

"What you looking at?"

"Your photos. They're all gorgeous." Quinn smiled up at Bridget as she slid onto the sofa behind her, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. Each photo was in classic black and white, typically British, but there was a colour theme throughout. Each image had the British colour scheme somewhere that stood out perfectly in contrast with the black and white. It made Quinn smile to think she lived in London now.

"Thanks, they're going to be part of my portfolio, eventually." Bridget didn't sound overly convinced that her portfolio was on track but Quinn had faith that she knew what she was doing. "So about visiting New York?"

"Yeah?" Quinn said distractedly, her eyes still focused on an image of Bridget and Olivia on top of the bar holding a British flag above their head as she and Summer sprayed them with water from the hoses behind the bar. It was beautiful and surprisingly stylish considering where the photo was taken. But Quinn couldn't remember for the life of her who took it. _Or how drunk they were._

"You never told me why you wanted to go there?" Bridget asked softly, running her hands through Quinn's touchable hair to retrieve the blonde's attention. "Well you told me you wanted to visit someone, but not why."

"Hmm." The blonde sighed, placing the camera down on the coffee table in front of her as she leaned further back against the sofa Bridget was perched on with her legs folded beneath her. "It's complicated…" she started, but Bridget cut her off.

"I want to hear it."

She had originally planned to simply visit Puck, but now it seemed that Santana and maybe even Brittany may be there. On top of that, Quinn was also well aware that Rachel often visited Puck too.

"Okay, well it involves my ex…" Quinn warned, expecting Bridget to throw her hands in the air and say she didn't want to hear it. But Bridget was stubborn. Of course she wanted to hear it.

"Then it involves me." Bridget smirked playfully, tugging Quinn's hair a little tighter to silently communicate that she wasn't joking. Quinn giggled affectionately.

"Of course, I think its best you know anyway, but like everything with me, it's not as straight forward as I wish it could be." Quinn titled her head. It felt heavy and dazed, but most of that was due to the mental shots she'd purposely ingrained in her memory of Bridget in the shower with her again that afternoon.

As soon as they'd gotten home from the spa, Bridget had literally ripped Quinn's clothes of and smeared the blonde in whipped cream on the kitchen counter. The blonde couldn't remember how they'd ended up in the shower, but the fresh strawberry scent of Bridget's soap filled Quinn's mind with mental images she never wanted to forget.

"I still want to hear it Q," Bridget said softly as she raked her gleaming red nails through the blonde's hair making her shiver with pleasure.

"I told Noah that I'd love to come and visit him, you know, to catch up and stuff? But I didn't think about that fact that Rachel is always visiting him as well, since they've always been close."

"That's okay though isn't it?" Bridget asked, slightly confused.

"Yes course it is." Quinn smiled. "But we might run into her."

"Oh. Now I get it." Bridget smiled, but she was clearly a little concerned. She didn't like the idea of running into Quinn's ex, especially because of the way it ended between the pair. It would be incredibly awkward. "And, do you, um…do you want to see her?"

"Yes." Quinn admitted, biting her bottom lip. Bridget inhaled sharply. She hadn't been expecting that.

The brunette slowly shook her head and looked curiously at Quinn, hoping she would explain _very_ quickly before her mind jumped to any negative conclusions. Quinn continued, seeing the flash of hurt and confusion that glimmered in the dancers eyes. She wanted prevent that. "I was raised with the very strict belief that homosexuality was one of the worst sins you could commit. But as I started developing what I refused to call 'feelings' for Rachel in high school, I swayed my opinions on the topic to make myself feel more comfortable about it."

Quinn watched as Bridget unconsciously nodded her head in the slightest of motions. She could tell the brunette was trying to process where this was going.

"I spent most of my last year in high school or in relationships with guys who did nothing but put me on edge and made me feel uncomfortable around them. I was on the lookout for sexual advances that I wasn't interested in. Eventually, I just stopped dating all together. I was lonely and felt like I was missing something in my life that would have made me whole. Then one night, you kissed me. I didn't want to push you away like I had with everybody else, but instead, I wanted you closer. I knew right way that this was what was missing." Quinn assured her.

Bridget was tuned in to what Quinn was saying and the blonde knew without a doubt that the gorgeous girl knew exactly what she was talking about. She stood up and smiled down at Bridget, reaching to connect their hands as she gently pushed Bridget backwards so that she could slowly move to straddle the other girls lap.

Leaning in, Quinn closed the gap between them with a gentle kiss to Bridget's lips. "I need closure." She stated in a simple whisper as she watched the brunettes fiery green eyes run across her lips with agonizing passion and need. Bridget could feel Quinn's breathing escalate beneath her fingertips as she moved her perfect lips along her neck. "And I need you."

"You've got me Quinn."


	9. Chapter 9

**Had to rush this a little as I made some major changes to my first draft, but I hope this chapter makes sense! Lol **

**So…this is a filler more than anything else and certainly doesn't just focus on Bridget and Quinn. It involves all the characters since I thought it was important that they were explained a little more and involved more in this chapter. It focuses on the wedding that I've been building up to and any Rachel Berry fans will be happy to know she'll be making an appearance with in the next couple of chapters for sure this time! **

**Sorry for any mistakes once again, enjoy. **

**/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/**

"This dress makes me look like I have silicone implants in my thighs," Grace Harvey complained, poking at her legs as she examined herself in the mirror.

"It makes my complexion look completely dull." Jade Lewis frowned into the mirror. She squirted some lotion onto her palm and smoothed it over her arms. "I should have brought that bronze body powder that I saw at Sephora." She added, pouting. Jade wasn't the type of girl that needed bronzer to make her skin glow. It had a natural sheen, just like Bridget's own Latina complexion. They'd always been similar, but Jade's skin tone was slightly darker now.

Kendal rolled of the bed in their Ritz Hotel Suite and snatched up the Chloe' dress, letting it dangle from her fingers. It was long and brown and sleek, with tiny pearlescent beads sewn diagonally across the bodice, and two delicate beaded strands, like necklaces, to hold it up.

She yanked off her white hotel bathrobe and pulled the dress on over her head. The material clung to her figure, but it didn't feel tight – it felt great. Kendal examined herself in the mirror. The dress didn't make her look as hippy as she thought it would. She looked _hot._ Yesterday, all the girls had been waxed, plucked, exfoliated, steamed and moisturised from their hair follicles down to their toenails at the Aveda Salon and Spa on Leighton Street.

Kendal had new golden highlights in her hair and both her and Bridget had had their entire bodies dusted over with sparkling, scented body powder. Kendal fluffed up her hair, which had just been blown out by her mother's hairstylist. She didn't care if Jade and Grace weren't overly happy with their dresses; Seth wasn't going to be able to keep his hands of her tonight. Plus, the dress went perfectly with the Manolo's her dad had sent her a week in advance for her birthday. Kendal pulled the shoes out of her bag and strapped them on. She was glad a little piece of her dad was still around, even on her mother's wedding day.

"Perfect." Kendal said to her reflection, picturing a handsome Seth waiting for her at the other end of the aisle as if it was their wedding day. _She had a habit of being overly dramatic._ She looked amazing and she was definitely ready to do it. _Finally._

"All set," Bridget said, coming out of the bathroom in a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume. The dress looked pretty incredible on her too, but Kendal tried not to look. Where had those impossible curves come from anyway? She had done a marvellous job at ignoring Bridget all through hair and make –up that afternoon. She didn't see any reason to stop ignoring her now.

Bridget smoothed down the front of her dress, glancing in the mirror nervously. She wished Quinn would hurry up and come see her soon. She hated being in Kendal's presence without the blonde by her side.

Someone knocked on the door. "Hey, it's me." Zach, Kendal's soon-to-be step-brother said. "You guys ready?"

Kendal opened the door. Zach and Hudson were standing out in the hall wearing their tuxedos. Zach had gotten his straggly dark hair cut short and it was styled perfectly. He looked like a celebrity attending the Grammys, Kendal thought to herself. And like always, Hudson looked like the perfect gentlemen, with neatly styled hair and a perfectly tied navy tie that matched his waist coat and powerful blue eyes. Kendal swayed slightly at the sight of the Bridget's brother standing there in all his glory with gorgeously high, defined cheek-bones and muscled, broad shoulders. She had to admit, they both looked adorable.

"Wow." Zach said. "That dress rocks."

Hudson nodded in agreement, easy confidence hidden with an adorable shy smile. "You look really good Kendal, like always." He said earnestly placing a polite, gentlemanly kiss on her cheek.

Kendal frowned, revelling in the attention. "You don't think it makes me look fat?"

_What a drama queen._ Bridget smiled at her brother over Kendal's shoulder. She knew Kendal was flirting with him and she found it sort of cute that he was playing along.

"Give it up, Kendal," he said, "You know you're hot."

Kendal grimaced. "You really think so?"

"Yeah." Zach said, running his hand through his freshly cut hair. He still wasn't used to his new hair-cut.

"You all look beautiful." Hudson added politely as he nodded his head at Bridget over Kendal's shoulder. He hadn't seen his sister all week. God, he'd missed her laid back attitude and witty sense of humour that had always kept them so close. It felt sort of empty at home without her.

"Thanks." Kendal said shyly as Grace and Jade swooned over Hudson in the background. Bridget simply rolled her eyes as a smile crept across her face.

"Lennie thinks so too." Zach added jokingly, knowing just how much Kendal hated his lovable boxer that was tall enough to knock her over in one jump. "He told me. I had to leave him at home, but he'd definitely want to hump your leg in that dress."

"Fuck off." Kendal growled, although she was loving every minute of it. She turned to Grace, Jade and Bridget. "Come on," she said, "Let's get this fucker over with."

As the girls filed out the room, Hudson rested his hand on the small of Bridget's back and led her protectively down the hall. Kendal glanced back at the suites sumptuous king-sized bed. Okay, so the next few hours were going to be hell. And sure, she didn't know when the hell she'd lost her best friend to another fucking girl in a totally different way. But today was her birthday, and tonight, she was finally going to lose it to Seth in that bed.

If he spoke to her today that was. But if not, then Hudson was single wasn't he? _And fucking hot._

**/#/#/#/#/#/#/**

"Do you, Joseph James Osman, take Lorraine Marie Williams, to be your lawful wedded wife, to love and serve, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" asked the slightly stocky minister who had aged rather regally.

"I do,"

"And do you, Lorraine Marie Williams, take Joseph James Osman, to be your lawful wedded husband, to love and serve, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"Yes. Yes, I certainly do."

Raquel Lowndes shifted her hips on one of the chapel's uncomfortable wooden benches. "Tell me again why they had to get married so bloody quickly?" she whispered to Lila Coates.

Mrs Coates moved closer to her friend and gave her a knowing glance through a little blue veil that was attached to her formal hat. Both Bridget and Quinn had had a bet before the ceremony started that the veil would get caught in one the chapel doors and take her probably-to-elaborate-to-be-real wig with it. "I heard she was running out of money." She whispered. "It was her only way out of debt."

Mrs Carlson, Seth's mother, couldn't help but get involved with the excited gossip. "I heard she fell in love with his summer place in Cornwall. But he wouldn't sell it, so she figured out another way to get her hands on it." She contributed, leaning forward to whisper in Raquel and Lila's ears.

"How long do you think it will last?" Lila asked dubiously.

"Well, how long could _you_ live with _that _man?"

Quinn had to stifle her laugh from the bench behind them as they examined Joseph Osman, who was looking particularly rosy in his grey pinstriped morning suit and cream coloured shirt, tie and waistcoat. He'd even worn a pocket watch for the occasion, much to Quinn's amusement.

Lorraine looked radiant except she'd chosen a light pink dress instead of white since she didn't want to wear white twice, believing it was tainted. Quinn suddenly realised why Bridget felt very, very sorry for her ex-best friend. It _was_ understandable. Lorraine's eyes glistened with happy tears and an ancestor's diamonds glittered from her neck, wrist and ears.

But most importantly, the bridesmaids and ushers. They were the most beautiful group of people Quinn had ever seen. She could understand why Vogue liked to use weddings like this to take photos and print articles about the wedding of the year.

Kendal clutched her bouquet of winter lilies and kept her eyes fixed on Seth, drowning out the wedding ceremony completely. He'd only sent her one oblique text since he'd been back, explaining that he'd been busy with family, but he hadn't texted back when Kendal had replied telling him how nervous and excited she was about tonight. Kendal had had to satisfy herself with the thought that all would be resolved once they saw each other again.

As long as that bitch Bridget didn't get in the way, Kendal thought to herself. But then she remembered. She didn't have to worry about that anymore. That almost made her feel slightly worse, strangely.

Kendal waited for Seth's eyes to shift to Bridget so she could catch him staring yearningly. But Seth kept right on watching the ceremony, his green eyes sparkling in the candlelit church. He was feeling sort of nervous too, but he wasn't going to let it show. He feigned interest in the ceremony to avoid making eye contact with a particularly gorgeous Kendal.

Bridget felt jittery too, although you'd never know it. Whenever a professional got his hands on her face with makeup and blew out her hair, the results were unreal. Her brunette hair shone, her honey complexion gleamed, her cheeks glowed and the brown Chloe' dress hugged her body, accentuating her womanly hips, the curve of her back and her long, toned, graceful legs.

But inside, Bridget was feeling a little messier. She just wanted Quinn up there with her, to make her feel secure when her easy inner confidence just failed to make an appearance and she felt bad that she hadn't been able to see the blonde at all before the ceremony. But she was also worried about Kendal, despite the fact that the blonde had been ignoring her all day.

The girls were standing next to each other and Bridget could practically feel the tension zinging off Kendal's body like static electricity.

Across the aisle, her brother winked at her. He looked like a prince in his tux. Quinn thought Hudson looked like a make version of Bridget, all dark haired, greeny-blue eyed, and tall, with a sprinkle of freckles on his nose and adorable dimples in his cheeks.

Bridget turned her head and tried to locate Quinn in the audience but she couldn't see her bright blonde hair anywhere among the glamorous hats and crisply coiffed dos of the wedding guests. She knew Quinn was there, and the more she told herself this, the more desperate she was to see her.

"And now you may kiss the bride." The minster announced. Joseph grabbed Lorraine around the waist. Kendal clutched her bouquet against her stomach to keep her from puking.

It wasn't a very long kiss, but any public display of affection between people of her parent's age was enough to make her gag.

Joseph took Lorraine's hand in his own and smiled at the audience as the pianist began to play.

_At last, they were married!_

The wedding party followed the couple down the aisle and through the chapel doors. Hudson spun round once they were outside and bumped into Kendal. "Hey. Congratulations, Kendal. Happy Birthday." he said, kissing her on the cheek. Kendal smiled. Hudson had been the only one that had remembered all day. It made her want to ditch Seth and spend the night with Hudson even more. There was something familiar and safe about him. Bridget wanted to drag him away from the blonde when she saw them together, but then she sensed someone walking up behind her.

"Hey, beautiful." Quinn whispered in her ear. Bridget spun around, a smile lighting up her face.

"God I've missed you today, Q." Bridget grinned, wrapping the blonde in a giant hug and then taking Quinn's hand in her own. Quinn smiled at the brunette's enthusiasm to see her.

"Why don't you ask that guy if he'll take out picture?" Quinn suggested happily. She thought she'd feel out of her depth at the 'wedding of the year,' but she didn't. She was actually enjoying it, especially since she was going to be the one who got to tear that gorgeous gown off of Bridget later in an overpriced hotel suite whilst they drank wine and ate freshly picked strawberries.

The _Vogue _photographer was busy snapping romantic shots of Lorraine and Joseph together in a nearby rose garden that led to their awaiting Bentley. Suddenly, Lorraine called out for Bridget to come over.

"Come here darling!" she waved from the two girls to come closer and then whispered something to the photographer. "Get your photos taken so that they can publish them!"

Bridget suddenly realised what that meant. She was pretty sure Lorraine had just told him to get a picture of the two 'lesbians' that had just come out since it would make a stunning, eye opening feature in Vogue's next issue. But she didn't really care what Lorraine had said, Quinn still wanted a photo taken since she dragged her towards the photographer.

"I hear you're together?" the photographer asked, moving towards them.

"Yes." Quinn said, smiling politely. Bridget stood back abit, unsure how she felt about this.

"Would you mind if I took a picture of you together for our next issue? This would really open up our readers eyes to see two, such beautiful young ladies looking so ravishingly stunning and completely in love. We've been trying to find this sort of thing for years!" The man explained, clearly proud of himself. Quinn blushed as Bridget frowned.

"You want to publish an article, about us?" Bridget asked wearily.

"Yes, I think you're beautiful together."

Quinn deliberated for a little whilst Bridget seemed to weigh up invisible options.

_Were they ready to come out? This publicly? _

_Oh dear. _

**/#/#/#/#/#/#/**

People continued congratulating the happy couple as they kept Kendal and Zach close, posing for family pictures.

Kendal hadn't factored the receiving line into her plan for the night and her mother and Joseph seemed hell-bent on prolonging the agony. Her face hurt from smiling, and she was sick of people kissing her and making her tell them how happy she was for her parents. _As if._ It was bad enough that she'd already been forced to pose for the camera with her lips pressed against one of Joseph's chubby, red cheeks. _Not Good._

"She's really cool to hang out with," she heard Zach tell someone. He was standing next to her on the receiving line and kept telling people how psyched he was to have such a cool new sister. Kendal knew he was being sarcastic. She wanted to hit him.

"At least they got this right." Raquel Lowndes commented to her husband when they passed through the receiving line and entered the elegant ballroom of the Ritz hotel, where the wedding reception was to take place. The room sparkled with silver, white linen, crystal and candle-light. A harp player sat in the corner, playing discreetly. Waiters in white jackets distributed flutes of golden champagne around the room and escorted guests to their appointed tables.

If Kendal had involved herself with the seating arrangements, things would have been slightly different, but Bridget, Quinn, Hudson, and Seth were all seated at the same table, with Bridget sitting in between Quinn and Seth. Across the table from them, Gracie and Jade were sat posing for the photographer in their still-too-tight dresses as he who floated about the room, snapping away. He'd ended up with loads of Bridget and Quinn and lots of them with the boys too.

Quinn's favourite was one of them holding Kendal's six month old niece Jasey between them as the gorgeous little girl looked up into Bridget's eyes with her big, auburn brown ones and held Quinn's hand with a massive smile across her cheeky little face. For a moment, Quinn felt like they had their own little family.

Finally, all the guests made their way through the receiving line, and Kendal and her new and improved family made their way to the head table. Kendal sat down between her mother and Zach, practically back-to -back with Seth. She couldn't believe it. Bridget and Seth were sitting next to each other at the next table whilst she was forced into sitting with her family. Un-fucking-believable. How did she know Bridget's new thing with Quinn wasn't just a phase? This was even worse!

Kendal leaned back in her chair. "Can we leave soon?" she whispered into Seth's ear, hoping he wouldn't ignore her. He nodded hesitantly, but made no effort to move. The truth was, he was quite happy where he was, just laughing and joking with Bridget and Quinn. They didn't put any pressure on him and were quite happy to answer anything him and Hudson were currently firing at them. It was interesting. And that certainly worked for him.

He just wanted to hear Bridget talk in that sexy, raspy voice of hers and see Quinn hold Bridget's elegant fingers in her own as they chuckled together, not caring about other people and their fucked-up opinions. It reminded him what a relationship _should_ feel like.

Satisfied with Seth's nod, Kendal titled forward in her chair and scooped up her champagne flute, downing its contents in one, swift, giant gulp. If she was finally going to do it with Seth tonight, she wanted…no needed, to be relaxed.

"Easy there, Kendal." Zach advised. "I don't want you throwing up all over me."

"Why not?" Kendal replied, holding up her glass for the waiter to fill. "It would be an improvement."

_Charming!_


End file.
